Monday, September 22, 2014

A Fragile Thing with Wings



So, where will we be when all the butterflies have gone?
When we have harvested, and sprayed and obliterated
Every meadow and unplowed field?
What if there is no fluttering in summer, no metamorphoses happening?
What if there is no renewal and transformation? Will all hope then die?
Will we, as a human race, forget serendipity and joy and the ephemeral pleasure
Of a fragile thing with wings?


~Kathie Adams Brown (September 19, 2014)

This poem is dedicated to my friend, Roy and his blogpost: A Butterfly Day

Thursday, September 18, 2014

The Chimney Swifts are Gone

The chimney swifts are gone,
and they took their cheerful voices,
Instead,
I hear cicadas whine
With a sound that spells the end,
The sky is faded blue
By the blazing summer sun,
Maple leaves are tinged with red,
The first hint of the coming Fall,
The scent of new mown hay
Lies heavy in humid air,
It is the end of summer,
--the waning days of summer,
--I’ll say good-bye to summer,

Until it comes next year.


~Kathie Adams Brown (August 27, 2014)

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

The Moon is Calling Me

The full moon is calling me
I slip outside into the night,
I follow the path to the midnight bay,
with water flat,
moon puddles like sparkles on black.

I see my old friend, The Bear,
watching over me from the sky,
She points me to my True North
where her Little Bear resides.

I hear the ancient moon songs,
I feel the ancient moon tides,
I dance my own moon dance
In purple shadows and silvery light,
Rejoicing in this wildness:

I have been inside too long.


~Kathie Adams Brown (September 8, 2014)

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Questions on a Perfect Summer Day


Can I pause for just a moment
to enjoy this summer day?
With the breeze teasing the branches and
a chickadee brightly calling?

Can I stop and listen to the cicada’s sultry whine?
Can I smell the fragrant flowers on the sea salted air?

Will I pause long enough to watch gulls wheeling overhead?
Or stop my frantic rushing to watch a butterfly at rest?

Can my eyes follow the darting of a jewel like dragonfly?
Can my heart stop to fill with wonder on this perfect summer day?

Can my soul drink it all in and hold it as a promise
against the coming winter’s snow?

Can I taste such sweetness and live?


~Kathie Adams Brown ( September 4, 2014)

Friday, August 1, 2014

Branches and Twigs


All trees reach for the sky,
—each branch an arm,
—each arm a fork,
a split,
a fine-tuned divide,
becoming smaller, grayer, thinner.

Yet in each twig life-giving sap flows
to each twig tip, where leaves nestle,
and flowers and fruit lie curled as buds waiting
to grace the world with ripeness—an EXPLOSION
of form, shape and color,
the resulting scene a vibrant landscape
with ribbons of color and splashes of life.


~Kathie Adams Brown (April 10, 2014)

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Letting Go






















So much of Life is about
Letting  Go.

You cannot hold on,
You cannot keep,
You cannot capture or retain
Another’s soul.

We do not own each other—we must let go!

We set our children free,
We set our friends free,
We set our lovers free, then
We set ourselves free.

We must let go
To Grow.


~Kathie Adams Brown (7-7-14)

Friday, June 13, 2014

I Would Fly Away With You

Have you ever seen a Purple Finch
dancing in the woods,
 a raspberry bird on a low branch,
sunlight streaming down,
chartreuse leaves a forming a bright frame
as he raises his crest to dance.
First he bobs and weaves,
raising one wing, then the other,
wings quivering with anticipation,
and where is she whom he is trying to woo?
Does her heart pitter patter like mine?
Does she know how marvelous it is to see him dance?
I stand here awestruck,
Wishing I were a bird.

I would fly away with you, fine fellow,
And we would make our nest!


~Kathie Adams Brown (May 12, 2014)