Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Sea Glass...Jewels From the Sea: NEWS FLASH!


Dear Readers,

Beginning with this post, I am moving my blog posts to a new home—my author website:


The blog page can be found at:


With this move, I will post on a monthly basis. PROMISE!

Thanks for stopping by. See ya'll in my new home!

Warmest Wishes,

Kate



Monday, February 28, 2022

Inspiration...the breath of life and fulfillment

Inspiration. From the Latin: inspiratus, to breathe into. The act of breathing pulls in life-giving, energizing oxygen, without which we cease to exist on a physical level. Over time, we have learned that we not only need to breathe in the air around us, but also the wisdom and love and support of others to live an inspired life. When I say "others," I refer to all things outside ourselves that we can pull inside ourselves to bring added joy and meaning to our work, our relationships, our very lives. We can find inspiration in the natural world as well as in the creations of other people. Of course, as human beings, we are also part of the natural world no matter how many barriers we often place between ourselves and other organic creations, flora and fauna, with which we share the Earth.

Today, I am focused on the inspiration I received from my dear Aunt Evelyn. Inspiration that overflowed itself into a poem that I recently wrote for her ninety-fifth birthday, just about a week before she passed away. Always a woman of strength, flexibility, good humor, and boundless love, Aunt Evelyn also lived life with a sense of curiosity and courage. As she began her transition from this life to the next, my cousin was witness to her mother's reporting of dreams, visions, and glimpses of the "other side." As with the rest of her life, my aunt faced her next phase with a sense of wonder and a deep foundation of faith. She was ready for the next grand adventure, knowing in her heart that other loved ones who had gone before her, especially her cherished husband, were ready to take her hand and lead her forward.

I learned from my cousin that her mother loved butterflies and that her favorite color was blue. Blue. The color of her beautiful eyes and that Carolina Blue sky beneath which she was born. And so, with Aunt Evelyn's spirit breathing life into my words, I wrote the following poem, shared here with my cousin's blessing. It is, perhaps, more "heart" than "art" but, I hope you may find a bit of inspiration from it as well.

Butterfly Soul

by Kathryn Louise Wood

A small butterfly came fluttering by

and caught the blue of Evelyn's eye. 

She softly raised her gentle hand,

offering haven for it to land.


Its tiny feet then tickled her palm,

sapphire wings folding down in calm.

She nearly felt its thrumming heart

and knew it played some larger part,

bigger than self in God's great plan.

"Please tell me now, however you can."


A shimmering voice now entered her mind,

more thought than words of any kind,

"Lean closer with your heart's own ear.

I'll tell you why God placed me here:

To remind you of things you already know,

down deep in your soul where all truths grow—


"Caterpillaring on, you do your best,

then cocoon for a moment of briefest rest.

And just when you think all of life is done,

you discover your wings, reflecting the sun.

Look in a mirror, and know what you see

veils your Butterfly Soul of Eternity."


Thanks for stopping by. Ya'll come back, now (and feel free to leave your own inspirations in the comments below.)

Kate

-photos from Pixabay.com-




Saturday, January 29, 2022

Snowfall...winter wonder

 
Here, in northeastern North Carolina, a hefty snowfall is a rare thing. And, so, we tend to celebrate with wide-eyed wonder and clicking cameras and bowls of snow cream, and some of us even wax poetic. Here is my poem inspired by snow and some photos of our most recent seasonal wonderment this past week, as well as a couple shots from winters past.




Snowfall

by Kathryn Louise Wood

Feathering through the ink of night,

Seeping into unseen cracks,

Swirling in mad circling eddies,

Drifting into slippery slopes,

Sweeping free across the open,

Deviling into sudden whirlwinds,

Clinging to eyelashes and to feet,

Smoothing over the rough and sharp,

Sparkling beneath sun and moonlight,

Melting into reflective glimmer,

Dripping silent, drop by drop,

Soaking darkly into earth,

Vaporing back to shimmering sky.

Is it snow...or memory?


Thanks for stopping by. Ya'll come back!

Kate