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
as the days grow short, evenings cool she braces herself against the wind, the inevitable season of letting go gone are hot summer endless days the reaper raises his sickle, a harvest to collect, alms to the piper she still remembers spring’s greening wasn’t it only yesterday leaf buds swelled from her winter bones, air earthy, damp, fragrant with dew sun slowing its course through the sky… it was yesterday, she remembers it well the hours, the days, the decades slipping through her fingers like sugar, bittersweet letting go the fruit of all her labor like seasons past, seasons yet to come the hearth grows warm, embers glowing her limbs rest heavy with sleep, drifting into this final season of life, too short in retrospect
~kat much love, peace, and glimmers to you…Autumn is in the wings. ✨🌿💚🌿✨
a twin hickory nut tree…perfect for a group hug! ✨💚✨
dawn with the birds
when dawn emerges in the foothills, and the blue jays squawk loudly I scatter peanuts, corn, and meal worms to console them, admittedly though, the mealworms are for a murder…of crows who gather when the jays have quieted and had their fill, when the sun is high in the sky, they feast and jabber, hopping happily around my earnest offering while a lone hawk screeches nearby not at all interested in the corn, the peanuts, not even the mealworms, no, the hawk fancies warm-blooded fare a mourning dove who lingered seconds too long at the seed feeder, or perhaps a finch, young squirrel, or chipmunk, though the latter, I have observed are quite adept at evading capture and ultimate slaughter…there are bees buzzing nearby gathering nectar, dusting pollen as they flit, and hummingbirds hover directly in from of me until we are eye to eye, their wings humming, every morning there is want, expectation, joy, connection, unspoken acknowledgement amidst the looming shadow of carnage, drama, survival, life encapsulated in the simplicity of nature, who in her magnificent wisdom sustains us in an unbroken cycle, the seasons, dawn and dusk, day and night, where nothing is personal, malevolent, or cruel i linger long letting the morning gird me, as I listen, observe, and breathe sweetness of a new day before venturing into the harsh reality where self-absorbed humans deny we are all from dust and to dust we are destined to return the dust on my feet and in my lungs remind me to walk gently…to be kind
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
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.