Author Archives: Kat Myrman

the alpha, omega, and mid-summer illusion





the alpha, omega, and mid-summer illusion 

she lights the room with her smile,
well-practiced over decades,
a gracious nod, a coy wink, she is
masterful in the art of ladylike-ness,
her voice like silk, never veering
from script, lilt of laughter strategically
slicing through the din of conversation,
charming, ever charming, polite, nice
exuding familiarity, sensuality, chastity…
she’s an illusion, perfection in red lipstick,
powdered porcelain skin, sculpted by shape wear
suffocated by the tyranny of oppressive opinion
maintaining the status quo
keeping the peace

once upon a time she was fierce,
a wild child, smart, inquisitive, intuitive,
magical, a budding creator creature
connected to Gaia, calloused feet
muddied from stream-tripping,
and forging untraveled paths
she hasn’t forgotten the girl
but secretly she loathes her,
deceived by the lies repeated to her
by those she trusted most

years from now
when the porcelain cracks like an eggshell,
she’ll emerge, granted by the fates
the gifts of age and wisdom as she sheds
the chrysalis that has held her through
life’s tempestuous seasons to emerge
fresh-faced, etched by sorrow and joy
body softened, tracked by stretch marks,
age spots, her once glorious golden locks
salted gray, brittle-thin,
oh how she will emerge magnificent
boisterous, full-throated, opinionated
having found her voice…her truth
at long last

the girl will remember spring, come winter
you may find her barefoot, tripping streams,
revisiting paths forged in youth,
where she’ll dance with the fairies,
finally free
count yourself blessed if you glimpse her
take care to listen to her song,
however brief,
like a lullaby in the darkness
holding us until dawn…alpha and omega
with a smattering of lunacy in the in-between
a life full lived, a force of nature
silenced when Gaia calls her home

~kat


reflections

I’m a bit late to the 2024 party. As fate would have it, I was exposed to not just one, but two nasty viruses on Christmas Day at a family gathering. First to darken my door was the flu…a nasty strain this year…and then, just as I was feeling human again a week later, on New years Day, COVID finally got me (a first for me). I suppose I’ve joined the herd. If not for the booster I got last November, the doc said I might not have faired as well as I did. Still it was not how I planned on ringing in the new year! Anyhow…we’ve been snowed in for a bit…things finally melting, and I snapped this view out my front door this evening. It blew me away. I am so grateful for the beauty that surrounds me. For each sunrise and sunset. I hope you and yours are well.

Before I close out this post, I must share another view of the photo above. I applied a mirror filter to it and lo and behold, there she was right there reminding me Gaia, (as I imagine her at this time of year) sleeping amongst the roots, deep underground waiting for spring! What a gift this slight of photo editing produced! Isn’t she amazing!!! If you look at the original, you’ll see her peeking out at you. Sometimes it takes a mirror to see things more clearly.

It’s a reminder to me that it’s okay to rest (I’ve rested a lot this year). A new year need not be tackled all at once. We have 365 (actually 366 days this year) to live the promise of 2024.

I wrote a little haiku too. Of course I did! Peace and much love to you!

gaia suspended

deep beneath the snow
she slumbers, dreaming of spring
winter lingers long

~kat~

night light

night light

it was a good day
‘midst the realities of life
I caught her smiling

~kat

It’s the small things that keep me going. I collect these moments, keeping them close to my heart and at the ready to draw upon when the going is rough. Like a candle in the distance on a dark, dark night. Yes, it was a very good day.

it’s the pain, stupid

it’s the pain, stupid

there are moments
when you bark at me
“you’re driving too fast,
too slow, too close
to the road’s edge” as if
i am intent on killing us both
i forget in that hot minute
that it is the pain screaming, not you
not that i am entirely blameless, but
your wrath outweighs my crime
and in that bitter moment of raw
helplessness, I ignore the pain
that haunts you, that haunts us,
that thing we dare not name,
by joining your bloody diatribe
regretting my loss of control
the very second my defensive
outburst pollutes the space
between us, daggers stabbing
our silenced broken hearts,
our shared brokenness magnified…

when hope was a thing
I imagined you walking
when hope was a thing

i know I can’t possibly
fathom the relentless pain
you’re suffering, the endless hours
trying sleep it away, the losses…
your career, your plans, your
independence…the least I can
do is drive…just drive,
please forgive my forgetfulness
the pain has changed you…
changed us both

“How are YOU doing?”
a friend asked the other day
tears gave me away

~kat


autumn rain

autumn rain

I feel it in my bones
hours before the first drop
when the sky floods gray
and heavy, my knees scream
my back aches and my hair
becomes a web of straw clinging
to my head…my thought process
grows sluggish…and I think
the very best I can manage
is a nap, a very long nap
in fact wake me up come spring
when the rain is sweet and cool
not this bone-chilling deluge
that drenches fallen leaves
grinding them into loam
tree limbs overhead stripped bare,
unable to shade the carnage below
oh that it would snow, this season
in between has lost its charm
the letting go, the letting go…
to death…I feel it in my bones

~kat