i have been lulled by the serene, by cloud dappled cerulean, and green by the scent of honeysuckle, fresh cut blades of grass, by rose petals stretched open wide, drenched in dew by birdsong at dawn, crickets and peepers at dusk, the sun and the moon chasing each other day to night, the stars granting wishes before fading from sight…she is a beguiling mistress, nature, it’s easy to forget she has a dark side; a cycle of life, daunting for those low on the food chain… usually efficient, she sends the buzzards to remove remnants of untimely death from the forest floor usually, but not today as i happened upon a tiny shank of fresh meat, fur still clinging to exposed bone, undeniably of rabbit, nestled in pressed down clover, beautiful green, the sun shining, a soft, fragrant breeze rustling the leaves and all i could think was how grateful i was not to have witnessed the brutal carnage that happened here under the trees, my heart breaking for that poor creature, emotions flooding my soul, heart breaking for all manner of suffering as the world grows darker by the day remnants of untimely carnage left in the open forcing us to see, no longer kept hidden behind closed doors or in the shadows, life is not all rainbows and butterflies and there are not enough buzzards, what magnificent creatures they are, to sweep away the bloody mess we’ve made of things, not nearly enough
~kat
As luck would have it, it was raining when i recorded this melancholy poem… or maybe it has nothing to do with luck. 😉
As requested by my dear friend Peter, i give you the recited version of yesterday’s poem. It took me a dozen or so takes, not that I’m a perfectionist, but to successfully get through from beginning to end without a hiccup, tongue-twist, mangled word, or brain freeze. And I might add, the quietest place in my world is outside. This bright sunny morning, you will hear that I competed for air time with a field of lusty cicadas. Welcome to my world! I hope you like it.
And Peter, I could not live with myself if I were the reason you were losing sleep! Rest well my friend and thank you for tapping on this old turtle’s shell and inviting me to come out!
…and here is the text in case you’d like to follow along…
what matters
it matters not when life begins or ends; it is the in between the crooked path, the highs, the lows as most lives go, pendulums swing and we obsess in the extremes but that’s not where the rubber hits the road, i’m told, steady as she goes, the wise have said, don’t lose your head, don’t sweat the insignificant, but who’s to say what matters most at end of day if truth be told, if truth exists the rights, the wrongs the reasons why we fight and fret and lean toward right or left, it is the middle, we forget, where time is present, neither here nor there, where god, if god exists, is love, is everywhere, where grace flows freely, despite who, what, why, or where you’ve been, can we just close our eyes, pretend it matters not the second life begins or ends, it is, as it has always been, the in between
it matters not when life begins or ends; it is the in between the crooked path, the highs, the lows as most lives go, pendulums swing and we obsess in the extremes but that’s not where the rubber hits the road, i’m told, steady as she goes, the wise have said, don’t lose your head, don’t sweat the insignificant, but who’s to say what matters most at end of day if truth be told, if truth exists the rights, the wrongs the reasons why we fight and fret and lean toward right or left, it is the middle, we forget, where time is present, neither here nor there, where god, if god exists, is love, is everywhere, where grace flows freely, despite who, what, why, or where you’ve been, can we just close our eyes, pretend it matters not the second life begins or ends, it is, as it has always been, the in between
she is a crone, yon maple tree her sweetness long run dry her core laid bare, exposed, she stands tall, deeply rooted having weathered many a storm, seasonal extremes, drought and deluge, through it all she greens, her leaves a celebration of resilience, audacity, of life.. a marvel, casting shade to cool and sturdy limbs for nesters, a wonder, though onlookers might surmise her useless, her scarred exterior as evidence, they underestimate her power and the fire that courses through her veins…underestimated to the peril of small minds who’ve forgotten that their shallow roots mingle with hers in the hollows
mist-veiled hints of muted blue pale light dawning, just out of view earthen musk mingling sweet blooms, dew clinging birds singing joy breaks through
~kat
The Clogyrnach Poem
This Welsh poetic form is typically a six-line syllabic stanza with an ab rhyme scheme: Line 1: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 2: 8 syllables with an a rhymeLine 3: 5 syllables with a b rhymeLine 4: 5 syllables with a b rhymLine 5: 3 syllables with a b rhymeLine 6: 3 syllables with an a rhyme
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!
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