i know why you wear a hooded
coat in scorching summer
heat and why
you mumble to yourself to
drown the sounds of hurried
streets and why
you shuffle facing down avoiding
eye to eye, no words to
speak and why
you carry ragged treasures close to
heart to feel
complete. i know why.
you have my deepest empathy for
we lost souls collide more often
than we know…yes i know why
it’s not because you’re cold.
kat ~ June 12, 2015
i believe in miracles every
time i realize that i am breathing without
realizing it…every
time i remember something
i remember i almost forgot…every
time i watch a tree wave in a swift
breeze without breaking…every
time i wake to birdsong while
the clock tick tocks…every
time time stops and i notice how
blessed i am…i believe.
kat in june 2015
(Artist Unknown)
In the beginning She hovered
over the face of the deep.
Giver of Life, Helper, Witness,
Truth, her fruit is love, joy,
peace, patience, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness,
gentleness, self-control.
Where she is, there is Liberty.
This Pentecost…may
She Who Is….Shekhinah Glory…Fair
Rose of Sharon come dwell
in us, to set our hearts afire!
Kat on Pentecost Sunday 2015
A Job Seeker’s Lament
I’ve crossed all my t’s and dotted my i’s,
embellished my truth with a few benign lies,
given you time when time was due
and all to get a nod or two from you.
Apply, wait, repeat…repeat and again.
Spin-cycled dizzy and churned with no end,
suited and polished to make that impression.
Dressed for THAT job…you know the expression.
Hours to days to weeks to depression.
Surely I fit your idealized description.
Show me your hoops and I’ll gladly jump through,
stand on my head, dance a jig, shine your shoe.
Encouraging words only make me feel sick
without them in writing they’re nothing but shtick
I’m hanging in though, but by a thin thread
so give me a reason to get out of bed.
Call me and soon, you’ve got all my numbers.
Time’s running out, my savings are plundered.
Give me that chance to amaze and impress
Let my foot in the door, and I’ll handle the rest.
kat ~ May 2015
Just Weeds
Dandelion doesn’t know that he’s not fine and dandy.
And bless her heart, fair Chickweed flaunts her blooms to no avail.
Sweet Violet and Clover, how they blush in warming breezes.
Wild Ivy raises leafy limbs, embracing brick and mortar to the eaves.
Silly weeds without a clue don’t realize that they are less than.
First to flower midst the fading chill in winter’s wake.
Thriving even in the spaces barren, parched and unforgiving,
No moss or fancy fertile beds constraining; wildly free!
But soon the gardeners will come a-weeding, sad but true!
To nip this native symphony mid-stanza from it’s shallow roots.
Making way for fussy Fescues, Irises, compliant, prickly Roses.
Just weeds they’ll say, but how I’ll miss their verdant, unabashed audacity!
~ kat / April 2015
