on the cusp of spring when the world is damp and bleak when tall tree limbs stretch toward the heavens stripped bare by the fierce nor’easters of winter their brittle fingers clutching air against the gray I wonder what if winter hangs on and spring never comes? how easy it is to teeter on the edge, weary from long, dark nights, from the frigid nip of ice-laced wind against my face chilling me to the bone how silly of me to think it
spring always comes
as if on cue the song of peepers from the edge of a nearby creek echoes through the mist snapping me out of all doubt settling my wild musing reassured now, as if… and I think, I just may have a few more springs in me left until winter wraps me in eternity just a few more
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
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.
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
It’s an interesting ReVerse Poem today. Much of my time this past week was spent seeking out the tiniest details of the world around me, and noticing that perfection is not spared even to the smallest cell. Attention to detail. It’s actually listed in my day job description. I’m good at it. Perfected over the years. And while I have a razor sharp gift for finding typos and planning every possible scenario of a project, itinerary, or event, my personal life has been rather frazzled of late.
Perhaps it is because I have been feeling small and vulnerable as we manage our way through an unwelcome plot twist that has challenged our plan for a leisurely retirement. Retirement? Haha! What was I thinking back before things got so complicated. Facing the fact that your partner is likely permanently disabled and you are the primary caretaker is a lot to take in. The little things matter all the more to me these days. They remind me to pause, to breathe, to rest. I’m not good at any of those things.
So, thank you tiny miracles that have caught my attention this week. I need you more now than ever. My soul devours you like a great blue whale sweeps through schools of krill. Nature and nurture is not an either or proposition. Nature IS nurture. Be well this coming week. I wish you happiness and peace.
A ReVerse Poem ~ Sunday, 13 August 2023
storms rarely come without warning don’t ask unless you want to know when my soul’s in need of healing underneath the juniper tree just beyond the blackberry hedge facing eternity with grace perfection takes more than a day
~kat
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.
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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