how fragile life is
a hiccup in time
how fragile life is
touched by the divine
miraculously
a hiccup in time
yet vast as the sea
a breath, a soft sigh
miraculously
though all things must die
to be born again
a breath, a soft sigh
beginning to end
interconnected
to be born again
sweetly perfected
how fragile life is
interconnected
how fragile life is
kat ~ 28 February 2017
(A Terzanelle Poem)
Still reeling from the chaotic beginning of my week. Adding a second magnetic poem to make up for my poetry form for yesterday…
…almost back on track…knock on laminate. 😉
you know…
it would be lovely
to have a do-over
this week…
like the blossoms
in spring!
kat – 28 February 2017
(Magnetic Poetry – Nature Kit)
I was going to try to explain my tardiness…but, what can I say? It was your typical Monday…CRAZY day! 🙂
this was one of those
dark coffee mornings,
cloudy, wild, work days
but I always smile as if…
you get the picture…
but I sail along only by
remembering to breathe
and lingering over
my hot cup o’ magic.
kat ~ 28 February 2017
Art from cliparts.co
SADNESS
Someday I hope you can remember
All the good things about us
Days of happiness, carefree, loving
Not that I want your pity
Everything happens for a reason
Still I miss how easily we fit
Seems we just outgrew one another.
HAPPINESS
How do I explain this
All-consuming feeling
Perfectly
Packaged
In a word
No single word is
Ever adequate
Sometimes
Simplicity, just being it, is best.
~kat – 26 February 2017
Happy Sunday! Today’s Shi Sai is a bit like a ping pong ball that has pinged out of play and is now ponging off random surfaces. It happens. Sometimes my little experiment with words goes off track. At least at first reading.
It is only after a second read through or a third…maybe a half dozen more that I am able to decipher what spilled out of my brain over the course of the past week.
Sometimes I wonder why I do it. Why it is so important for me to write day after day; words upon words and more words. I tell myself I do it for myself; that it keeps me sane. That much is true.
And there is this other thing. I suppose it’s also true, for me at least, what they say about writers and artists. We long to be remembered, to be understood, to be known. I admit this part is true, too. I am entering the last decade, or if I’m lucky, the last two or three more, of my time on the planet. My life has mostly been about deepening the rut of survival, raising kids, sleeping, working, sleeping, working.
And there is a third reason why I create words, art and the like; to counter the negativity best expressed in the saying, “Life is a bitch and then you die.” I don’t believe this; that nothing matters. Everything and everyone does. Matter, that is. Like renegade ping pong balls we bounce off as many surfaces as momentum and gravity will allow because inertia is not an option, because not ping ponging is death.
Oh…and we bounce off each other too. That’s the best part. The messy, magnificent part. My words, this blog allow me to bounce off more of you than I ever imagined possible. And so I write. A lot. It’s as if I am saving the best part for last. When all is said and done…and written, it’s not a bad way to go.
Have a great week in and out of the rut. keep pinging! ❤
Shi Sai Sunday’s Week in ReVerse – 26 February 2017
I think I’ve missed the point.
we call it prayer
the power was ours all along
pools of vibrant life force welling
at water’s edge
fire meet ice
the heat was rising
what of the shattered remains?
I can be spontaneous
it’s not that I’m not strong, you know
it’s early morning drenched in dew
breathtaking
elusive
hear the truth
be windows
truth
nectar of the
fog
she had a mind and wasn’t afraid to use it
you likely know a scapegrace
when days grow long
memories of dying stars
we’re all but lost but for the brave
~kat
like mercury colliding... 