Sun-painted Green Mountain as the crow flies at dawn -kat March 2022
the wild sacred
who can look at the sun at dawn or at dusk and not feel it’s fire in your core or sink your naked feet in cool loam it’s tingling vibration, as you become one with the she that is Her; oh, the song of cicada’s stirs sensuous longing; their slow rhythmic moan to crescendoing climax to breathless release…’sigh’…how indeed the cacophony of spring birdsong at dawn, their frenetic trill tweets are passion’s love song how could wild things be bedeviled as wrong from the rush, ebb and flowing of waterways deep to shallow streams bubbling, the brute power of steam, the way wind-tossed leaves sound like tempest-swelled seas while the stars and the moon watch us drift off to dream, to sleep, souls to keep holy, holy, wild is the rawness of green not sterile stone chapels with steel phallic spires but darkness, musk hollows, mountains and fire, how sacred is She, how wet with desire the earth and the sky and a soft cooling breeze can transport one to heaven on earth…
come with me
we’ll tip whistling kettle to cup, watch the crushed tea leaves bleed you’ll tell me your tales, and i’ll tell you mine too, while we sip from our cups in this wild sacred place, just us two
-kat
Just musings..no prompt or challenge save the magnificence surrounding me. Some poetry is best just because. 😊
hello there dandy, first to bloom, with golden mane, frosted lightly, buttons of tiny petals to parasols of gray, taking flight one day on bursts of breath whispered softly to a crystalline sky… it would seem you are more than a nuisance, a weed deeply rooted, it is you who dares to bare your face, to rise, to shine in the light of the worm moon, to announce the coming spring… a dandy-lion who dallies with tempests, only to be plucked from the loam, soft, downy, feather-light, ripe for the kiss of wish-makers, to dance for wide-eyed innocents who dare to dream
the night lingering into day…no consolation when death comes a-calling
~kat
Magnetic Poetry - Poet’s Kit
2022 has been the year of the reaper in our little menagerie. First to fall, our sweet 18-1/2 year old diva kitty, Casey, on January 14th and next to succumb, was our 8-1/2 year old hunk-o-love, big boy Maxwell on February 22nd. The gray sky and rain are cooperating oh too well with the drama of it all. I’m a bit of a mess, especially around mealtime. Two less bowls to fill…:( Hug your fur kids, your kid kids, your grandkids, big kids, little kids…or find a tree and hug that. You never know…you just never know…RIP my lovelies…
I stopped blaming the muse a long time ago. It’s not her fault, my aversion to upstopping my mind and letting the words flow like raindrops, like they once did. I left myself behind in pieces, managing the simple routines that got me by for these past several years in holding. Years of wandering, wondering, worrying, angsting, working too hard has gotten the better of me and I was quite content to lock myself away in shelter while the plague ravaged the outside world. The beautiful words that once swirled in my head begging to be released in prose or poetry muted to a whisper…only a few blips managing to break free in the past year and then some. Seasons have come and gone, children have been born, cherished pets have crossed to the other side, and I still work way too long and hard, but I am not content to let this wave of apathy have the best of the best of me.
How I have missed this place and you…and for that matter, me. I’ve spent the past week or so rereading my own words. I suppose it is my way of trying to find myself, to breath life back into my heart and mind…and it may be working. It got me to this page…it got me through almost a year of blather, sparce as it was. What resulted had much to say to me. “Whisper the answers you seek”…I am whispering, but know I will not be content until I am once again shouting from the tops of the trees…and so there is only this for now. Precious words gleaned from the gray…no promises of more to come…know it is my heart’s longing to return.
A Year in ReVerse
oh i can list a few reasons
soft as a whisper,
or not...i forgot
days of rain, incessant raining
maybe not, doesn’t matter much now,
sing the song of the night
dreaming in green
the world turned blue
the page, left wanting
sunlight lingering into the evening,
i dress myself in tears these days
winter coming soon, too soon, just saying
hard to let go when the sickle falls
memories of seasons past,
whisper the answers you seek
when all that is left of us is dust
~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.
she stands, deeply rooted amidst a grove of shallow-footed firs, bursting with fruit; her evergreen friends taunting her as she blushes red, surrendering her modesty to the cool winds of autumn
what dreams she’ll dream when winter comes, memories wakened in the deep, dark loam, buried there where only her roots can taste them, memories of seasons past, of seed-burst longing to breach the grave, to life, to feel the sun upon her face and the sweet seductive breeze, the thrill of greening
she stands, deeply rooted amidst a grove of shallow-footed firs, some felled by tempests, or the ax destined to waste away to dust covered in gaudy baubles and tinsel, their ever-greenness an illusion laid bare at the altar of lost souls, and rendered to ash at vanity’s bonfire
yes, she stands, deeply rooted in the bosom of she who keeps this blue orb spinning, sailing through a sea of sweet milk just far enough from the sun not to be consumed and close enough to the moon to see her reflection, light and shadow colliding, in ecstasy, heart and soul all-knowing
~kat
-Inspired by a new book I’m reading… “Seeds From the Wild Verge” by Brendan Ellis Williams
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.
