starry night
.
dark
with glimmers of
light
no sign of the moon
crescent, waxing, somewhere past the trees
granting
every star prominence
for the world to see
how softly
they light the night sky
~kat
a pi-sequence poem
Much love, peace, and glimmers to you!
✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
almost spring
.
rain
drenches sleepy
roots
whispering softly
wake up my loves, winter is fading
the sun
draws ever so closely
courting you to bloom.
you dreamt it
dear ones…spring is nigh
~kat
Tried something new…adding verse to video. It could use improvement, but after several hours of tweaking and learning a new program…this is it for now! 😆
If you’d just like 30 seconds worth of rain sounds to settle your soul…here you go. (Disclaimer: the contents of this video clip and its videographer are not liable for any bladder awakenings that may occur…listen to it at your own risk! 😆)
Much love, peace and glimmers to you!
~kat
✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
refugees
.
blue
eyes and blond hair,
traits
inherited from
my ancestors, foreign refugees,
who dared
to hope in Liberty’s
promise of freedom,
compassion,
opportunity…
.
from across the ocean they came
with dreams for a future, a fresh start
they put down roots and worked hard,
found a home here, raised a family
not unlike
today’s
sojourners
seeking refuge from oppression
only to find
the Lady immured
~kat
I have decided to stop counting the days. It took me days, the entire week actually, to scratch this bloody commentary of a pi-sequence poem (3.1415926535 8979323846 for the syllable count each line)
It’s exhausting here in the trenches watching everything implode. My heart breaks daily for the victims of cruelty and hate.
I manage to get up everyday, tend to my animal friends, and work, but the darkness only seems to get darker. It’s hard to ignore. Hard to feel anything but guilt that the scourge hasn’t reached my door yet. Most of all I am horrified by the way we are treating each other…especially children. Those who claim to support life, clearly don’t. Their concern ends at birth.
I wrote another poem… an acrostic…
I heard a rumor…
It’s about time…
Most reasonable, relatively sane people would agree
Presidential immunity is over
Elections are not for the overtaking
And democracy is not for sale
Congress is finally waking up, ready to
Hold this corrupt dictator wannabe accountable
Tell DJT and his sycophants it’s over
Restore decency and justice for all
Undo every vile executive order that
Made him and his ilk richer…declare
Power to the people where it belongs
~kat
I do hope the rumors are true and congress follows through.
As for glimmers. Just because I am not counting days does not mean I’m not paying attention and looking for glimmers! If I can hold onto a glimmer of hope, show compassion and kindness, even if it feels inadequate to counter the relentless onslaught of terrible…I have to trust that it is enough. Especially if I’m not the only one glimmering.
So yes, I also have a few glimmers to share. They are both tiny. Sometimes tiny is best because it forces you to notice…to lean in,
We have babies of various forms,,,
no plan z
.
when
my best laid plans
fail
again and again,
forced to let go my best intentions,
face truth,
and accept reality,
how grateful am I
for moments
of soft clarity
reminding me how small I am
reminding me to embrace the truth…
this life is not a battle to be won
but an clear invitation to remember
i am one
with all
that I am
the calm before, and the tempest,
made of stardust
one with all living things
~kat
A pi-sequence poem. Syllable count: 3.1415926535 8979323846
Life has been a bit of a blur lately. The foothills where I live has been visited by Fern and Sage (don’t let their sweet names fool you…these girls were quite tempestuous!) over the past week and a half with temperatures deep and frigid.
I immediately snapped into survival mode keenly aware that I am a caretaker to not only my menagerie of furry, feathered and finned aquatic friends, but my disabled spouse who depends on me to provide for and protect. In no way am I complaining. It is a labor of love to care for my little family. I did what I have always done as a master-survivor. I assess the situation, come up with a plan, and execute the solution. It has worked for me over and over throughout my life. But this time as I worked through plans A, B, C, and on, just when I thought I had a clear directive, nature reminded me that I clearly did not.
Hitting a wall will wake you up. I had to accept the reality that we are snowed in until nature turns up the temperature and melts the snow and ice that refuses to play by my rules. As far as I can tell, that means another week or two stranded. Plows cannot clear our steep driveway. I know this because they told us so. “So sorry…good luck!”
When you get to plan Z there is only one thing you can do. Take stock of what is, and make the best of it. During this exercise I realized what a blessing i am receiving when I took stock of the reality of our situation.
Some of the blessings…glimmers if you will ✨💚✨
And so I settled in, baked my first loaf of artisan bread in a new Dutch oven I was gifted at Christmas, and made a big pot of chicken soup. Oh, and I binge-watched the entire first season of a series I had been wanting to see but never had time for, with Gabby my pup napping next to me.
Instead of cursing the weather, I settled in to our haven on an impassable hill during ice and snow, in the midst of trees. And I finally feel like I’ve come home.
Much love, peace, kindness, and gentle glimmers to you!
~kat
✨✨✨❄️💚❄️✨✨✨
rights of passage
she
doesn’t know the world’s
burning
everything is pink
her innocence intact, fiercely protected by her loving parents
all parents
hope as much for their children
it’s why they...it's why we come here
promised by Liberty
that the pursuit of happiness
could be ours too, once upon a time
when tutus, bunny-eared hats, and Spider-Man backpacks
were protected rights of passage for all
~kat
5-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos was abducted by ICE from his school in Minnesota. He was used as bait to lure his father outside where he was taken into custody. Liam and his father are now at a Texas ICE facility. His father had applied for asylum at the border, and has no criminal record according to their immigration attorney. He was doing all the right things like immigrants from centuries past have done to become a citizen.
Today’s poem is a tale of two young children. One, my great granddaughter at her first ballet lesson. The other, young Liam, whose only crime is the color of his skin and his country of origin. Both of these angels are glimmers. Both deserving of love, compassion, happiness, opportunity, safety, and respect. I pray everyday for the children. For every single one.
Much love, peace, and glimmers to you.
~kat
✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
like mercury colliding... 