like pressure makes diamonds

up all night i remember us

survival turns seconds into minutes

sealed inside like pressure creates 

an equilibrium by which we

can roll. time got nothing on us

the city still and quiet makes

diamonds. we meet in the park after

dawn   #katyamills

zoom 40

in the heart of the pandemic 

within six feet social distance of 

an asymptomatic friend you 

contracted death 

surreptitiously 

faced mortality and

survived

you planned a great feast

of endless gratitude

table of forty 4

the holidays

by zoom 

#katyamills

s.mode

There will be those times no matter how well you have prepared when you experience hardship. stay calm and faithful to your work. do not be afraid to ask for help. every hour of hardship is worth fifty hours of contentment. on the other side of s.mode, may you find your spirit renewed.

Let your purpose carry you like a gust through darker moments of life, rattling the windows

I will be there
alongside your faith
to hold you
when you get home

We will know
neither day nor night
in our arms
embracing

Posted from WordPress for Android

the velveteen rabbit

Cold. Blue dawn.

The velveteen rabbit was hobbling up the road with one button eye just a hangin’ from a thrice restitched socket, his nerves just a hangin’ by a thread. He looked back every time he heard a sound. The two lane highway was just ahead. He was dragging a broken leg behind him, and his cotton tail was blackened by mud. He had dropped himself off the side of the bed, after hours wrenching himself out from the little girl’s grip. He had dreamed only of this moment in time, for many years now. With what stuffing he had left for brains. There were gashes and cuts where the dogs and cats had bit and clawed him. Even the wretched maid who always put on an careless face when left alone to do her dirty work, had been known to throw his entirety into the washing and drying machines. With bleach! Dear God!

Yet none of the abuse he suffered by those to whom his life was tangential, could ever compare to the heartless depth of the one who loved him! His child companion. She loved him past living, and his experience was a perpetual dissociation to the heights of the ceiling (where her thick little pudgy arms could not reach him), looking down. Watching his limp carcass get dragged around and squeezed violently. Covered by her great human weight, every time she rolled over in her sleep. Oh hell on earth!

His fur rubbed down to the quick.

He reached the highway and held out a broken thumb. Someone in a mid-twentieth century Volvo slowed down then pulled to the side to pick him up. Sweet freedom! With all his might he pulled himself together, and hopped on up and into the car.

No sooner had he got up onto the back seat leather, when a young boy, about the same age as his child companion, only maybe a little younger and more full of reckless abandon, grabbed him about the neck in terrifying fashion, and reached over him to shut the door closed. Then peered closely at him. Fingered his shivering velveteen residual. The car pulled back onto the highway, and the boy then began to show immediate disinterest, and lovingly flicked away at his single button eye.

Autumn was

What was this world where when autumn arrived…

How they harvested, by hand.
How they jammed the jam.
How they hunted the land.

Made wind chimes of bone.
Tapped trees for sugars.
Thanked the almighty.
Venison, quail, turkey and trout.

Facing the winter with faith and tobacco. Exposed to the elements.

Cooking the fats over a crackling fire, on irons they traded for pelts.
Chanting at sunset and dancing til dawn. Large fires contained within circles of rock.

Living a life ruled by water wind fire earth sun ice stars and great sacred spaces cast under moonlight ruled by the rhythms as of yet undisturbed and of wonders unknown.