d. ellis phelps' new collection holds images-both colorful and visceral-of the flora and fauna of the Texas Hill Country and poems that point to a deep spiritual connection between humans and nature. Here she writes of tree snogging, a natural phenomenon that can happen across trees and between species, "me and the tree-snogging / sharing skin / sharing blood / -each holding / the other to earth," and practices "mindful meditation." She bows to a "god" she doesn't understand yet celebrates rain as heaven-sent, mourns drought that dries the sacred Guadalupe River, acknowledges "holy, holy, holy // water." She apologizes to earth, touches on the wisdom of stones, seeks trust and gratitude to open and "seed like a flower."

-Sandi Stromberg, Frogs Don't Sing Red: Poems, Kelsay Books, 2023

Just as the limestone of poet d. ellis phelps' beloved Texas Hill Country reveals for posterity the record of geological time, of failure & faith comprises phelps' poetic record of Nature's sedimentary genius. These rich poems all seep in like the silt deposits the eons have layered into canyons. We see our own ephemeral image in the striated depths of this "holding ground" we inhabit together, and we recognize that we fail most in our failure to rejoice at the wonder of being no less alive than the "primrose open[ing] / her yellow face // in praise of the day."

-Stephanie L. Harper, This Being Done

of failure and faith is a collection as brilliant as the sun glinting off water, full of urgency and wanting colored by Texas skies and grass and hummingbirds. d. ellis phelps writes lullabies and laments for Texas, chronicles the shifts in its nature, and observes it with the perfect blend of lush and spare language. Her poems move with ease and aplomb. I relished every evocative and sensual idea-wildflowers as street preachers, spirit that speaks as clear as a dragonfly's wing, cypresses kneeling in the water. Readers will find resonances in every poem, both mundane and profound-the big box store, never-ending concrete, and country roads.

-Kendra Preston Leonard, PhD, Protectress