errant Queen

and what to do with an errant Queen

she’s marked, her days linger lined

is there a kingdom for another so sweet

or must she perish in the muddle of the feat

to find a way to keep her life

when all asunder with two hives rife

dual colonies at bat for charge, to

choose who wins and settles the new

a balance we know no longer

look to bees and see their wonder

of how with grace they hold the peace

if only we humans could reach this place

we’ve longed disrupted all the order

pretending to know what is best with mortar

and guns, the destructive ways

and now a Queen, is marked by days.

the bear and lion of the canyon

roam under eyes from those at random

who decide the numbers and hunt

their wildness on their home front

where once a balance o birds and bees

wild felines, bear, scraggy canines and fleas

lived together in their own domains

giving wide birth to all who reign

today we tip delicate scales

from nourishing heaven to crazy hell

finding discord and pain with endings

perhaps a Queen who without a mending

will be the sacrifice yet once again

an errant Queen no, hive, due to men

the species strong of mind and knowledge

one day perhaps we’ll discard our foliage

and anti up to our mistaken ways

perhaps still time, in this foray

and if the end is near and soon to come

it is love, play and joy that take us home.

Kat

3 October 2019

autumn splendour

a painting arises

halfway greens

splattered upon the canvas

wind swishes segmented colours

sideways, up and down

elongating transforming splashes

once verdant, now a kaleidoscope

of autumn in its kodachrome splendor

gone the lush green monochrome

now rich in splats and swipes

soon fully ripened, their tipping points

stealing our breath sharply

Kat 

27 September 2019

Unspent Feelings

The day with unspent feelings. A full Aries moon tugging at them.  She rose in the dry autumn eve, a headlight, haunting the sky, drawing all to the surface in her light. 

The early hard freeze turned a changing coloured scape to brown.  Lifeless foliage, soggy apples, hungrily supped upon by bees. 

That forgotten pumpkin among the withered vines, softened, rotting when teen temperatures hit yet again.

Kat

October 2019

Living

I live on a street

where people walk by

I see their parts and pieces

through stands of trees and bushes

their mass though bits of movement

on scattered beams--

rays of reflecting light

tell me so

ants, move slowly to and from their hill

with a certainty

known to them but

a mystery to me

those who go to the ocean shore

to the waves and crashing surf and

more perhaps,

and back again

I saw a blind woman walk this way

and again in the later afternoon sun

tap, tap tap-another mystery

I hear a clipped laughter like a movie

that reels onward with gaiety and then, gone

an audience of the audience who seek,  look

and return

a movie always in the making

Kat

15 July 2014

Who Am I ?

 I am force, I am life

the very mystery that draws

breath without nary a thought

my mind is not my body

my body is not my mind

neither define whom I am

I am force, I am life

the mystery and wonder

that makes me Divine in

my own individual way, always

with all answers within

capable of understanding truth

in the silence between each

breath that gives me life

held in sacred holy space

I am whole, I am life

in my humble sacred being

my light, my force, is life

Kat

29 September 2019