Inevitable Erosion

Ripple Rewind!

The Ripple's Edge

Sometimes words trip over themselves
in a great rush
to make a point, or illustrate a feeling.
Longing to exist beyond the wisp of a thought
tucked in some crowded crevice,
recycled through a span of days.


Sometimes words are obstinate,
heavy solid things,
resisting all efforts to pry them from
their hidden coves.
There they sit unmoving
and as permanent as
the curved lines in a sculpted stone.

That’s alright.

One day they will be forced to share themselves,
or, like the stubborn sculpture,
risk inevitable erosion and be lost to eternity.

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The Recruiter

Ripple Rewind

The Ripple's Edge

Image Copyright:  Kati Bergman 2015. The old Salem Church which witnessed the death of many Civil War soldiers and served briefly as a hospital and burial site. Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.
The old Salem Church which witnessed the death of many Civil War soldiers and served briefly as a hospital and burial site.

Through many fields I’ve wandered,
and after days of endless marching,
they all appear the same;
air hung thick with angry smoke,
and the ground shaded in ruby stains.

The wind carries on its shoulders
the spirits of those who are gone,
and has left this task to those still left.

And so we march on.

The days are filled with marching
you hope will never end,
for each and every place we rest,
it seems,
the wind recruits our men.

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Foggy Thoughts

Ripple Rewind!

The Ripple's Edge

The world is heavy,
cloaked in hazy grey.
A deep fog hovers,
covers all.

So silently she preys,
and creeps and crawls
and coats us all in misted breath.

An early morning visitor that quickly ages,
(in rapidly disappearing stages)
until, quite unnoticeably,
she dies a crystal death.

IMG_0493.JPG Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2014

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The Best Gift

Ripple Rewind

The Ripple's Edge

Sometimes the present proves itself
a rare and precious gift.
Sometimes it sits
a weight to bear,
you hope the future lifts.

If ever your present is heavy,
if ever you’re down or feel low,
I ask you to reach out, find me.
I’ll do my best to show you
the same friendship you’ve shown me,
that’s the best gift that I know.

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Fragile Things

Ripple Rewind!

The Ripple's Edge

A dream is made of fragile things,
of beads of dew,
and dragonfly wings,
of silky spools of spider threads,
and a ripple’s touch at water’s edge,
of footprints left along the shore,
and waves before they kiss the sand,
of rainbow smiles in a storm,
and falling leaves as they land.
A dream is made of fragile things,
that give a voice for hope to sing.

Written March 27, 2013

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Word Bouquet

Ripple Rewind

It’s been almost a year since I began posting to The Ripple’s Edge, so I thought I would, for a little while, repost some of my favorites. I hope you enjoy!

The Ripple's Edge

In the silence that follows
a look, a question,
have patience.
While words jump
at the chance to serve you,
mine take time to grow.

Under perfect conditions
little tending is needed
and they burst into bloom
across a page or screen.

But airborne thoughts…

spoken in words that are never seen

those words take time to gather,
to arrange
so that I may
do justice to my thoughts
and make each sentence a bouquet.

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Where The Road Leads

Image Copyright:  Kati Bergman 2015.

Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.

I spent a day in the country,
just driving around.
Took a day to myself to breathe,
to get out of this town.
Tried to escape,
get away for a day and just heal-
spent some time trying, for once,
not to think-
trying to tame how deeply I feel.

My mind wandered back to memories I made long ago,
back to a version of me I once used to know,
and I realized that somewhere along
this path that I’ve known,
somewhere in time, at some point I’ve grown
separate from who I thought I could be.
Instead I chased the ‘shoulds,’ creating a new version of me.

I don’t know why I behaved as though I had something to prove.
I expected perfection, I had mountains to move.
I’m not sure when or where this drive first appeared,
but it consumes with an appetite I have now come to fear.

So I’m releasing myself from these self imposed weights,
and breathing and easing,
I’m not fighting fate.
I welcome happiness, love, and a much slower pace,
You wear out so quickly living life as a race.

I’m more open now to new things and new faces,
because I’ve learned stories begin in the most unlikely of places.
I’ve learned that the picture I picture to be,
rarely ever agrees perfectly with reality,
and that’s fine.

I have time,
to find
the life that was always
supposed to be mine.


Ice cold fear in rushing waves

come to steal them to their graves.

Freezing hope,

and tears and dreams,

while ripping bolts, rivets, and seams.

The impossible rising up to show

the impossible is possible-

a fact children seem to know.

The mighty fall

and all men fade,

even the few who think themselves saved.

Written:  12/29/12

The Legend of Luck

I’ve been working on building my endurance back up by going out running and it seems every time I sit down to stretch I happen upon a four leaf clover!  I have found three this week!  (I’m all about any extra luck that wants to head my way!)

Did you know that each of the leaves of a lucky clover are said to stand for something?  I didn’t either until I was told this week!  I tried to come up with a little poem about it…

Hidden in a patch of green,
shielded from the world, unseen,
a legend lies for eyes quick and keen.

Four gifts this legend brings to those
who pay attention, stop and slow,
and pause to see the earth below.

The first is faith, the second hope
for trusting in things with a larger scope.
The third is love, the fourth brings luck,
so your heart may find its place and never run amuck.

The four leaves of a fresh grown clover
reward the lucky few who see
past all the other grass and leaves
to where they hide and choose to be.
If you trust the legends…
So what do you believe?

Two of the lucky clovers I found this week. Image Copyrght:  Kati Bergman 2015.

Two of the lucky clovers I found this week.
Image Copyrght: Kati Bergman 2015.

Beware the Shower Cat!

Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.

Image Copyright: Kati Bergman 2015.

Mornings are always interesting where I live…mostly because of my four legged friends.  They are always there to make sure I hear my alarm, and the cats follow me from room to room- pacing when their breakfast doesn’t appear as quickly as they expect it to.

This morning I was trying to get things together for work and I heard a clanking coming from the bath tub.  My older cat Junior was batting at the drain demanding fresh water from the tap.  Our kitten Luna found it a great opportunity to catch him unaware.  (She’s always tackling someone!)

I was lucky to get this shot off before they moved.  🙂