This idea has literally blown my mind 😂 I’ve been walking around all afternoon thinking wait… I could write FAIRY TALE POETRY?! 😍 complete paradigm shift.
I put a disclaimer on my posted page. I have no plans of death soon. And if anyone is struggling with prematurely ending your precious wild, precious lives, please reach for help. Message me. Message a trusted friend. Call a hotline. Know you’re deeply beloved- by all the Universe and Beings within it. Sometimes the love can feel too far. Help will help. You’re so brave.
This poem comes more from a place of contemplating the goodness of life now and wanting to check-in, and live with intention.
So, I offer you:
Dusk
When the sun sets for the last time
When dusk settles over my body,
one, last evening.
I imagine a smile rests
I hope my bones will be old,
a little tired,
like the exhaustion after a hard day’s work. Satisfied.
When my eyes close at the last, suspended
place between sun’s light & night’s light,
May they still sparkle. Mischief & play still
delighting til the very end.
May there be love and legacy words on my slightly parted lips.
I could not believe the synchronicity of this space and these prompts. Yesterday to sit in the morning and write about the routine bliss of a day with my dog. Only hours later finding out she has a completely unexpected terminal diagnosis. And to awake to the prompt of dusk today. The accompaniment of you all in this space is something very special and is moving in mysterious ways.
Wow, this phrase: "Would that I could be your Clotho / Spinning, spinning / Till we are tangled in unending time together" it gives me chills, Margaret.
it is said
this is when the weavers arrive,
you will know them by
their hunting songs.
among the nightshades and the wolf grass,
wings and jaws and tongues are preying
upon dark willing blooms.
behind the curtain I lift my praying hands
to find them sewn into the softness
of falling night, a symphony of form and story
now seamlessly embroidered
by winged needle
into a landscape of dreaming earth.
Kate, I’ve read your poems this week and each day I think, “She is filled with Spirit.” This one is particularly beautiful.
I’m so touched by that, thank you for seeing me 🥹 and for being here in this cauldron of poetry!!
This imagery is so evocative. I feel like you would write the most magical faerie tales.
wow, I have never even thought to try, thank you so much for that mystical invitation!!
I agree! Imagine - faerie tales via poems infused with desert flower energy ✨
This idea has literally blown my mind 😂 I’ve been walking around all afternoon thinking wait… I could write FAIRY TALE POETRY?! 😍 complete paradigm shift.
Another ethereal dream journey!! I look forward to what mysteries you’ll share each day Kate.
Me too! ✨
that is so kind, I have been LOVING your shares as well.
Beautiful!
So beautiful.
How kind of you, dear day,
Not to cast all light away
And slam me into darkness.
This easing, this segue, reveals
That every departure is an arrival,
And every loss a gain.
Like milk poured into
black coffee,
The point of entry
Always becomes a swirl
And both darkness and light
Are contained within each other.
All of my life is dusk,
the pinnacle of nothing.
Every holding on
Is preceded and followed
By a letting go.
And so, go
“Gentle into that good night.”
a beautiful easing, Dwight.
This is so meangingful for me today.
Absolutely lovely
Love this Dwight.
Beautiful
Where does the time go
She wonders
Washing the last of the dishes
For the third time that day
Her body and mind weary
From the day’s divided hours, minutes
Comprised of assignments, deadlines,
Post-its reminding her take out the trash
Sign the permission slip,
set up the coffee, and remember:
Make the appointment—but did she
Make time for herself
as she’d promised?
She wonders
Placing the last water bottle into the drying rack
Then her eyes catch the view
Out the window
Of the ribbons of pinks, oranges, violets,
All blending and dissolving into
The darkest of blues, reminding her:
The day’s journey is ending
The striving and struggles may pause
For now, she is enough
For now, all that remains is to absorb
The quiet embrace of night
The threads of darkness have formed
A hammock into which she may
Settle her body and mind and
Welcome the peace of rest.
Oooo that imagery of nature creating the hammock for her body to rest. 👏🏼 aweeed!
Wow Rachel, this is lovely. I love how the poem begins the thoughts coming to close at the end of the day .
Ribbons & threads….💚
Dusk
Like a cat burgler
Dusk cracks open the sun's safe
To steal its gold light.
Once I rode
A dusky horse
Into the dawn,
Leather-smelling
And lathered,
He changed color
With the rising sun
Until I could see
That dark as he was
His beauty was light to me.
this is utterly mysterious, and full of sensorial movement. wow.
I put a disclaimer on my posted page. I have no plans of death soon. And if anyone is struggling with prematurely ending your precious wild, precious lives, please reach for help. Message me. Message a trusted friend. Call a hotline. Know you’re deeply beloved- by all the Universe and Beings within it. Sometimes the love can feel too far. Help will help. You’re so brave.
This poem comes more from a place of contemplating the goodness of life now and wanting to check-in, and live with intention.
So, I offer you:
Dusk
When the sun sets for the last time
When dusk settles over my body,
one, last evening.
I imagine a smile rests
I hope my bones will be old,
a little tired,
like the exhaustion after a hard day’s work. Satisfied.
When my eyes close at the last, suspended
place between sun’s light & night’s light,
May they still sparkle. Mischief & play still
delighting til the very end.
May there be love and legacy words on my slightly parted lips.
And may you know, not only
Your belovedness, but also your goodness.
May you know, I’m unafraid to go.
May you know the path ahead,
because in my time,
we learned to live it wholeheartedly.
Face me West.
So I will become dust
So J will welcome Dusk &
See her beauty
One. Last. Time.
The routine snapped
The bliss burst
A poem then a courteous call
Eight hours of testing later
Brings the dusk to match the color of your coat
___
You are so happy. How can it be?
That’s the problem, said the vet.
She learned to live this way.
An organ shrinking into dusk, too soon
When you are only still a pup
That chases shadows into ponds.
___
Why must I hold the scissors to cut the thread of life
The Atropos that snips the fibers when the time is told?
Would that I could be your Clotho
Spinning, spinning
Till we are tangled in unending time together
For finding new trails
And picking off ticks
For happy homecomings
A faceful of licks
________
Let’s rest now, my dear, in the dusk of this life
Till the sunset brings bliss and an end to the strife.
I could not believe the synchronicity of this space and these prompts. Yesterday to sit in the morning and write about the routine bliss of a day with my dog. Only hours later finding out she has a completely unexpected terminal diagnosis. And to awake to the prompt of dusk today. The accompaniment of you all in this space is something very special and is moving in mysterious ways.
♥️♥️♥️ sending you so much love
So grateful to be able share here and for the love
Sending love to you and your sweet pup, Margaret. 🧡
Thank you so much
Sending love💚
Wow, this phrase: "Would that I could be your Clotho / Spinning, spinning / Till we are tangled in unending time together" it gives me chills, Margaret.
Sending love to and your beloved pup.
Thank you so much, Christian.
Dusk
Sitting on our screen porch, mug of tea in hand, facing West, toward the mountains on the horizon,
Watching colors -- yellow, orange, pink, blue -- spread themselves over the Blue Ridge.
Slowly they fuse into velvety gray, final tinges of pink and blue gilding their edges.
Dusk has come again.
I would love to come sit with you sometime Karen, and your words her make me feel like I have 💜
Ah the Blue ridge, love that part of the country. ❤️
Beautiful! An image I’ve partaken in many, good times. Your words brought me back.
O Mystery, where have you gone?
You play with light
You tease the wind
And then you vanish
Into the dark of night.
I will wait by the water’s edge
Until I witness your familiar presence.
You will infuse your wisdom
Into my curious heart
And then slowly disappear.
O Mystery, come.
🥹🙏🌪️ the longing… in love with this prayer.
Thank you, Kate❤️
Night birds fly in the
improbably purple sky
as day fades to night.
When night falls into the glooming,
a magical time of dusk appears.
The shift is so subtle at first with
a misty shift in shade and light.
~
Tendrils of yellows filter through clouds
deepening into oranges and reds.
The blue of the sky deepens into indigo
as it continues to darken.
~
The air all around changes its tune
from the cacophony of bird song,
while peepers and tree frogs start
croaking out their messages of love.
In the almost-dark,
shadows gather in at the
edge, a dusty gloom
the allurement in this... terrifying and mouth-watering..
Its a transition
Like the move from nursing home
to funeral home.
Dusk
Alone in the damp air
Dusk imperceptably tightens around me
Obscuring what is real
Adds suspicion to what I still can see
Not the cycle of new days
Where its enough to hold on to the tatters
And will a new dawn come
With a return to when truth really matters?
The darkening sky signals:
time to lay worries and work down,
time to allow sorrow or grief to roost
in the rafters of the soul.
The darkening sky signals:
an opening to the unconscious as I sleep,
my unconscious
collective unconscious
gathering up images
to feed my dream soul.
The darkening sky signals:
closure.
The opportunity to lay things down to rest.
The darkening sky signals:
the contrast against which
sun will rise in the morning.
Dusk
The frayed edges of the day
As the day stretches out
And reaches its limit
And starts to gently fade away
Just now
Here in this place
The days are stretching
Dusk becoming later each day
With long stretching evenings
Under big skies
But come mid June
The dusk will start creeping
Further and further in
Till in December
When dusk won't be as I lay down to sleep
But when I collect the children from school
And hurry home before it's dark
So for now I'll enjoy
Enjoy the stretching
At the edges
As the days reach their limits
As the light fades
In this in-between time.