Perfection in miniature…the artistry of a black-tailed red sheet weaver. My yard is loaded with these little webs. When I walk my dog in the field at night with my head lamp on the ground flickers with sparkling blue eyes when the light hits them. My favorite glimmer yet.
seasonal shifts
it’s been raining for days ache settling in deep, lingering i would trade the wisdom of 70 years for an hour’s relief from the pain bone on bone, sinews on fire it’s been raining for days drenching me in acid frizzing my thinning hair pins and needles gnawing my skin aging gracefully is a myth they tell us when we are young and unbothered when aging is just a word used to sell us creams, serums, oils and elixirs from some elusive fountain hooking us when we are young as if we can stop the seasons even nature loses her luster in autumn cold breezes toss the turning leaves inviting them to break free for a brief, exhilarating plunge to earth to settle under a wisp of sparkling frost it’s been raining for days and it occurs to me that I am clinging too tightly to broken promises of youth it’s time for me too, to let go, to enter into my season of rest, to stop pushing through, to nurture my tender places to settle in under a wisp of sparkling frost beautiful winter, dark and crystalline, harbinger of spring, is coming soon
Late afternoon sun…quite the glimmer I think. I’m not entirely sure that this stream of verse warranted posting…but I penned it so here you go. Peace to you!
meandering thoughts on an autumn day
it occurs to me after all these many years that I have no idea what I’m doing or how or who, where, or even why I am quite convinced that I am clueless on all fronts. It has me wondering what the point is after all if there is a point, or if there even needs to be a point. I suppose, and I am not particularly concerned about this, I’m evolving into pointlessness with no what’s, how’s, who’s, where’s or why’s…
you know, the trees don’t bother with such silliness. they bloom in the spring, provide shade and shelter in summer, bear fruit, and then they let go of it all in autumn leaves twirling on the wind before resting on the cool loam… as winter, with its dark nights and bitter cold frost clings to barren brittle limbs, life suspended for a season pointless to wondering eyes or so it might seem, except there is a raging inferno beneath the frozen ground embers flickering in harmony with the budding blooms of spring as if to say, let’s do it all again! and nature complies as she always does without ever asking why
It has been a few months since I did a ReVerse poem. It’s a little exercise I do to discover where my head was at over a past period of time. I select a favorite line from each day’s writing and mash them into a new poem in sequential order oldest to recent. It shouldn’t work, but surprisingly, it often does. I give you the summer of 2026 in ReVerse!
Summer of 2026 in ReVerse
I’m still here being when i’m dust, may light filtered through stained glass just a glimmer… Escalate… ‘twas not dawn’s first light I am severely distracted in the shadow of the reaper it is safety, and freedom before the world got heavy devouring the dark night I have survived life happened, life kept happening steam rising from the pavement we remain a fractured fail, sorry celebrating diversity we’re reminded we are one fierceness is just hot air to write or not to write… Put your feet up and rest it is a good day if there is such a place too ignorant to realize I breathe, intentionally, deeply, even the trees look weary, …we can shed what no longer serves us
glowing red at dusk this IS…NOT NORMAL! they say truth is dead in the grave, clock ticking be present in the breach between good and evil the hot truth screaming touches my heart and soul deeply my friends don’t say much they are roaming the neighborhoods now living their best lives in high-octane liquid form so many words horrible truth bleeding out… a pulse detected the other crows watched silence is not an option sometimes a glimmer is a cold dark night reclaiming the inheritance of the meek it’s why they come here this life is not a battle to be won just past full breathing sweet fresh air, and birdsong late afternoon sun most reasonable, relatively sane people would agree seeking refuge from oppression whispering softly it’s never too late to do the right thing it is a rare thing they light the night sky
~kat
As you can see it’s been a while since I posted a ReVerse. I believe it is serendipity that steered me here. In bits and parts the lines above would not have had the same impact in the story that this long version tells. My country is not okay. And I refuse to look the other way and be silent when anyone…when any living precious soul is suffering at the hands of our current lawless, vindictive, soulless, hateful government. I can’t travel, or get out to protest like I used to when I was younger. But I can write. Years from now when I am gone, it is my hope that my voice finds its place in the chronicles of this dark time. Not only my take of what is happening, but the glimmers that sustained me and filled me with hope.
much love, peace, and glimmers to you,
~kat
✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Speaking of…here are a few glimmers from the past month or so!
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 here as a review of the past several weeks.
to dazzle the gullible…look here look there tomorrow we’ll assess the damage through one year’s portal into the next not forgetting the past, but hoping for redress to help me forget the world before insanity invaded
~kat
Welp…so much for the brief reprieve from the madness of 2025. A new year. A clean slate. The full wolf supermoon shone bright on Saturday night and then all hell broke loose over Venezuela hours before dawn. Not because of drugs (DT has recently pardoned a convicted drug lord), and not for regime change (since our government saw fit to leave a corrupt government in place, only ousting its top leader).
In our country our president cannot be held accountable by our courts…but the president of Venezuela sure as hell can. Especially when there is a stockpile of oil involved. Ah yes. There it is. Oil. And a weakened corrupt government kept in place that DT believes he can manipulate. “Comply or pay an even higher price than your president,” he warned. It’s incomprehensible and a clear sign that the nightmare continues. Not to mention, his previous targets are now battening down the hatches. Who will be next? Cuba, Panama, Mexico, Canada, or Greenland?
Meanwhile, DT continues to swell and bruise, have regular MRI’s, all perfect of course…and cognitive tests…his staff simply ignoring him when he dozes off mid-meeting with national leaders on camera as if no one will notice. Oh…and remember Epstein and his gazillion files that keep falling out of the nooks and crannies of our “justice department”. There’s that. So sorry world! While I did not vote for this madness, I am at a loss as to how to stop it.
Despite all this “news”, nothing is really new. It’s more of the same. People are figuring it out though, as they struggle to make ends meet and scramble to figure out if they can afford healthcare, while the rich get richer.
I refuse to give up. I refuse to lose hope. I have a voice and a heart that knows how to express kindness and compassion. We need kindness more than ever. We knew it was going to be a bumpy ride a year ago. It has been and is.
The sun was a beautiful sight this morning. Bright and warm and proof that the night only lasts for a short time before dawn breaks through the darkness. Let each dawn warm your heart to overflowing and remind you to be kind. We made it through year one. We can do this again…together.
Much love, peace, and glimmers of hope to you!
~kat
✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Morning on the Bramlett Mountain Foothills
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 here as a review of the past week.
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!
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kat Myrman and Like Mercury Colliding with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
