Category Archives: nature

letting go

letting go

from a distance
letting go takes one’s breath
a symphony of amber, crimson,
gold, emerald summer flare
fading, cool winds of change
wooing us to dance like dervishes
to break free of all bounds, to ride
the gale with abandon, to flutter
softly to the earth, in afterglow
of ecstasy, to drink the dew, to sleep
letting go takes one’s breath
from a distance

when one draws near
there’s no denying truth
clarity, reality, convey a somber
view of brittle bones, age-dappled
skin, fragile veins, the cusp of
death, spring, summer, now autumn
fading, letting go, the grim final
hurrah that exposes our nakedness
letting go is not so pretty, we cling,
longing for a spring we’ll never see
there’s no denying truth
when one draws near

in the end
when all is said and done
when all that is left of us is dust
when the earth reclaims our mortal
shell, what stories will our brief life
tell, memories perhaps of greening,
vibrant, shading, dancing, dreaming,
kissed by sun, caressed in moon glow,
brief, a blip, we laughed, we loved,
we lived life full…oh how we loved!
when all is said and done
in the end


mother oak

mother oak

she stands, deeply rooted
amidst a grove of shallow-footed
firs, bursting with fruit; her evergreen
friends taunting her as she blushes
red, surrendering her modesty
to the cool winds of autumn

what dreams she’ll dream when
winter comes, memories wakened
in the deep, dark loam, buried there
where only her roots can taste them,
memories of seasons past, of
seed-burst longing to breach the
grave, to life, to feel the sun upon
her face and the sweet seductive
breeze, the thrill of greening

she stands, deeply rooted
amidst a grove of shallow-footed
firs, some felled by tempests, or the ax
destined to waste away to dust covered
in gaudy baubles and tinsel, their
ever-greenness an illusion laid
bare at the altar of lost souls, and
rendered to ash at vanity’s bonfire

yes, she stands, deeply rooted
in the bosom of she who keeps
this blue orb spinning, sailing
through a sea of sweet milk just
far enough from the sun not
to be consumed and close enough
to the moon to see her reflection,
light and shadow colliding, in
ecstasy, heart and soul all-knowing


-Inspired by a new book I’m reading… “Seeds From the Wild Verge” by Brendan Ellis Williams

signs of the season

signs of the season

bare tree limb tips dipped
in green, white and lavender
sunlight lingering into the evening,
peepers peeping at dusk,
worms slithering from the damp dark,
bees, butterflies, spiders and ants,
buzz, flit and creep, a hint of wet clay,
fading leaves and first blooms in the mist
and this, the first hummingbird sighting
at the nectar jars outside my window
it’s official...spring is finally here


NaPoWriMo2021 - Day 13 Prompt: This one is short and sweet: write a poem in the form of a news article you wish would come out tomorrow.



the world is blooming
life bursting from the deep
buds to leaves while we sleep
dreaming in green


For Tanka Tuesday...catching up this weekend! A short one-stanza Abhanga.

The Abhanga is:
* stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains (4 line stanzas).
* syllabic, 6/6/6/4 syllables each
* rhymed L2 and L3 rhyme. Often internal rhyme is employed. End rhyme scheme x a a x , x being unrhymed.

Sunday’s ReVerse Poem – 25 October 2020

Blue Ridge Mountain Foot Hills aka My Back Yard October 2020 ~kat

It is autumn. The trees are turning, letting go. I should let go too. After a lifetime of clinging to expectations, you would think I’d have learned a thing or two. About letting go. About not holding on for too long, way past the point of no return. It’s a hazard of course, of optimism, of wishful thinking.

A dozen of more leaves drift from the treetops, settling softly on the damp ground as I imagine myself turning, turning. No amount of angst will change what is. Time to let go. Time to ride the wind instead of leaning into it full-faced, stubborn, unmoved. I wish you peace and health and love.

Sunday’s ReVerse – 25 October 2020

aflame in red, amber, gold,

listen to the wind and chill

there is no calm, no eye

I keep forgetting to breathe

barely forming waves, the air

this life is not for the feigned of heart

but half of us are wide awake

wintering beneath the dust


A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time. I use it as a review of the previous week…or in this case, the past few weeks.

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