there rose up a murmur deep and dark, a secret grown cold too long from the sweetest of blossoms who never bloomed…it is a soulless world watches them wither, refusing to listen
Decades…decades of silent suffering. It’s time to listen to the voices of grown children, robbed of their innocence by monsters still lurking in broad daylight. No amount of redaction can shield them from the power of truth.
It has taken me a bit of time to speak of this horror evolving before our eyes. My heart breaks for the women…for children they never were.
They are not gods who rape and pillage innocence for pleasure. They are demons. May we finally see them for what they are and hold them all accountable for the atrocities they have inflicted.
Much love, peace, and glimmers my friends. Pulled this one from the archives to help us remember what flowers do best when allowed to thrive….
Today’s Glimmer: Beautiful Winter Trees in the Bramlett Mountain Foothills ~kat 2025
another autumn
the autumn winds, swift and fierce raze the forest leaves from limb like seasons past, played their part trees pruned, as winter begins
summer’s leaf-dressed canopy shade from sun and camouflage now reveal a clearer view a hidden treasure-like mirage
nests tucked in the highest nooks forest floor, its paths obscured leaf-covered in amber-gold souls of trees laid bare and pure
soon winter with frosty breath, snow will turn the foothills white autumn gently tucks us in to sleep through wintery nights
~kat
I love autumn! The colors, the smells, bonfires, hot apple cider. It passes so quickly leaving us with trees stripped bare. And I must admit, I love winter trees too. To me, they are symbols of letting go, reminding me shedding what no longer serves me does not mean I have to rush to get on with whatever is next. The trees this time of year show me how to stop, to reflect, and to hope in the spring. As we enter this dark season when the nights are long may we learn to rest. After a long year may we settle into warmth of home, of family and friends, and remember what is most important.
I don’t do cities unless I’m forced to, if I must do things like appointments, grocery shopping, you know “lifing” like a zombie, day in day out…I don’t do cities unless I’m forced to, i prefer a natural scene, the rolling Blue Ridge Foothills you’ll find me here most nights and days, working hours, and play where traffic is a gaggle of gobblers crossing the driveway, where the sound of wind rushing through the trees sounds like ocean waves crashing into the shore where my top 40 hit list is birdsong… from hummingbird chirps to pileated woodpecker cackles, crow caw-caws and raven grunks I traded bumper to bumper morning commutes with morning walks through the mist at dawn this is my favorite place i don’t do cities anymore unless I’m forced to best decision I ever made no looking back
~kat
I discovered this magic portal on my walk this morning. Isn’t it fabulous? I wonder who has taken shelter here. Chipmunks, squirrels, perhaps even some faerie folk! At any rate. This is a proper glimmer if there ever was one.
At this precise moment the message was clear, beautiful, grounding, inspiring. As I took my evening walk to finish up chores before the night set in, the horizon prompted me to pause…all is well. No promise of the future. No rehashing of the past. None of that mattered in that moment because in that moment wrapped in the glow of dusk I felt safe, protected, and seen by the universe.
I snapped a photo to remember that even when life feels scary, challenging, and unpredictable there are always moments like these ready to embrace me. Moments that allow me to catch my breath…to pause…to breathe.
Much love, peace, and glimmering moments that give you pause…
a system that moves on from oops as the walls came tumbling down you’ve made it this far we don’t know what we don’t know naked in the snow on the cusp we’ll tip our warm cups for being different a call to surrender there is too much of it with nothing…to do
~kat
Sunday is typically thought of as the last day of the week-end. But I remember learning that Sunday was the first day of the week. Tomayto…tomato.
Night comes sooner now that we have “fallen back” from daylight savings time…as if daylight needed saving. I do appreciate the illusion of an extra hour of sleep based on the numbers on my digital clocks. I never seem to get enough sleep these days. But the animals are not having it. They know what time it is. And they don’t particularly care if Sunday or Monday is the first day of the week either…or if it’s Wednesday (do you sound out the syllables in your head when you write it? Wed-NES-day?)
We like to control things. We like to be in charge. We like to know what’s happening next, and those with the means will do anything to ensure things go the way they expect. The rest of us are along for the ride…and I just have to say, the ride of late is a blended monstrosity of the most stomach churning, terrifying, death defying amusement park rides…just a thought…it’s a roller-tilta-death-drop-anti-gravity-raging-lazy-river-bumper-swing-space tunnel-bungee-coaster. And for years I thought the hamster wheel was a tyrant.
On to Monday then…but first proper Sunday first day of the week. Rest up…you’re gonna need it. ready set go!
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.
like mercury colliding... 