rock-a-bye moon the stars have run out of wishes…the fat lady sang her song, but no one was listening…the fiddler had played them to sleep and a thousand suns faded to black
~kat
It was one on those days. My phone ringing off the hook. Hours talking family members through stuff. I must’ve hung out my “Mom is in” sign in the clouds. It is rare that I get an actual phone call. These days the preferred mode of communication is text. It’s lovely to be needed. Years after they have grown and started lives and families of their own, a simple phone call is a wonderful thing…a voice…not text shorthand and emojis on a screen. Needless to say I launched immediately into mom mode. It’s the little things, isn’t it?
I tend to lean toward chronicling the times we’re living in through poetry, and my writing. That’s why glimmers have become an important detour for me. Today, it was o phone call. And of course Gabby too. She keeps me from going over the edge.
A silly Gabby…As if to say…why so serious mom? Why indeed! She just might be an angel…
as ignorant blind fools sleep along the forest edge I went I refuse to blend into oblivion Obviously, it’s clear as swamp water done and kept anonymous potted plants are not still life
~kat
Well, this week’s ReVerse will make you think. I tell myself that I should not try too hard to make sense of it. After all, it’s just six lines lifted from the poems written over the past 6 days. Six lines.
To say ‘it’s been a week’ is a loaded statement for sure. It’s been months of unbelievably insane weeks. No need to wait for the left shoe to drop…it’s been raining left shoes.
That said, hope feels like a very brave thing to do. In those moments in between hopelessness I have glimmers to keep me. I hope you are able to embrace the glimmers in your life as well. Be assured you are not alone.
Much love and peace to you…and glimmers, especially glimmers!
another too long day of chores lost to daylight…but always, there at least a moment for a glimmer. Isn’t she magnificent!
violets
blooming where planted potted plants are not still life bursting with secrets
~kat
The lady at the counter could see that I was a reluctant gardener. If she only knew how many lush plants I had ushered home to die. Maybe she figured that out as she looked at me with kindness, a slight tilt of her head while eyeing my selected purchase…”don’t you want one of the plants with flowers already blooming?”
The shelves of her market store were loaded with thriving, blooming specimens, bursting with purple, blue and pink blooms. Clearly, she had a knack for keeping violets.
“No, I like the green, healthy look of this one.” More than anything I wanted to prove to myself that I could master this. To feed and water and nurture something so delicate that it might one day reward me with flowers.
She seemed to know what I was thinking. As if on cue she started to list all the things a new violet parent must do to raise a thriving, happy plant. “Never let water touch the leaves, you know… (I didn’t), place your plant in a dish with water and feed it. Never spray its leaves with mist (I had wilted many a leaves in my shaded history with this practice). And give it sunlight.”
I thanked her for such good advice and left the shop with a sense of excitement and hope. Maybe this time I can pull it off. At least for now having a green living thing inside my home, will bring me joy every day…and it did.
Weeks passed and my little plant grew fuller and greener. Thankfully my cats left it alone. There was no hint of flowering but I told myself that having a living thriving plant was enough. Secretly I wondered if I should have taken the shop lady’s advice and picked out an already blooming specimen. I wondered if having a beautiful green plant was enough after all my concerted effort to do it right this time.
Just when I had made peace with my beautiful, simple, thriving green plant, and the idea that I was okay with it being flowerless, it happened! I noticed a cluster of buds hidden under the leaves.
There are so many lessons to be gleaned from this little exercise in hope, faith, persistence, kindness, and love, but I’ll leave that to you to surmise.
Much love, peace, hope, joy, and glimmers to you.
~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Oh…and one more thing about this late next day post…I have decided to stop feeling remorse for falling asleep, failing to finish a post before the stroke of midnight. I promised myself 365 days of glimmers and 365 days it will be even if a few spill into the next day or year by a day or two. We are likely to need glimmers then, perhaps even more, if things keep moving in the direction of the past 7 months. The important thing is that we take a moment to discover them. Peace out my peeps!
so this is what it feels like to exist at a time of history repeating, to wonder who they will come for next; to resist hate in a world where kindness and compassion are revolutionary acts, where caring is a liability, where the words on my cell phone are an indictment, where it’s just a matter of time before they find me out…well… I’m not hiding…like mercury colliding… I refuse to blend into oblivion with those who sleep through this nightmare while innocents suffer… I read today, the bees are dying someone should do something, but the inconvenient truth of the matter is, someone is me, and I don’t know what to do, except to shine a light, to tell you, to tell anyone who’ll listen, the bees are dying…because I think you should know
~kat
Today’s poem speaks for itself. That said, I present to you today’s glimmer…literally, lightning in the distance and the sounds of midsummer nights in the foothills of Bramlett Mountain. Even while the world sleeps, the forest sings, for the trees perhaps? Another lesson to consider from these woods that I call home.
Today’s Glimmer: A doe and her twins under a hickory tree in the Bramlett Mountain Foothills ~kat / July 2025
switching to survival mode
I know how to survive, how to stretch a few leftovers into more how to add water to milk to make it last one day longer… when I was a girl my family lived in a motel with a kidney-shaped pool a few steps away from the interstate, from an underpass where others lived, who weren’t as fortunate as we I know where to find pennies, enough buy fast food dollar meals, how to barter for groceries, taking care of someone else’s kid so mine could eat, how to resurrect hand-me downs to clothe us, sewing squares of well-worn fabric into colorful quilts to brighten our space, oh I know…
someone told me the other day, you’ve done a lot of things in your life… I have, I smiled…I wanted to say it’s called survival, but only other survivors understand that you do the jobs no one else will do, building experience and skills to gain a few more pennies, moving from job to job, several at a time, as time sifts through your life like sand. i can make do and make work the crumbs and scraps of life, things others toss in the trash keeping us just shy of enough… it’s been decades now…decades…
I still keep a jar of spare change always at the ready just in case, I hunt for bogo sales at the market stocking my pantry with one extra I keep clothes patched and useful long after they’ve gone out of style and yet…and yet I wake each morning grateful for the sun and the rain, and this blessed life, my greatest accomplishments are my children and their children and theirs
they say the tariffs will raise the cost of living for those of us who pay to live…I’m ready, though I wish we didn’t need to be…I know how to survive in the best and the worst of times. as long as i can keep a pot of soup simmering, there will always be plenty enough to share and room for one, or two, or a few more at my table this is how we survive…together
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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