Finding the Connection

The thought drifts slowly through my mind,

softly on silver wings,

Moving like a ghost through mist

on a cold, gray day,

Its gossamer tendrils entangle me,

wrap me in knowing

that I am connected,

that I am bound to this earth,

This Place of my being,

and all that happens to her,

happens to me,

and with the horror of this knowing—I  gasp!

And with the joy of this knowing—

I fly.

~Kathie Adams Brown (March 21, 2014)

• World Poetry Day 2014

Morning on the Bay

Mere Point Bay, Brunswick, ME March 2014

The silver bay is flecked with gray, then blushes a soft pink,

The shining sun has just begun to rise above the drink,

And so the morning softly comes upon the silver bay,

And all the birds burst into song to welcome the new day.

~kathie adams brown (March 18, 2014)

Before the White-winged Dove Returns

White-winged Dove in my Tucson yard 4-13-2013

I will be gone before the White-winged Dove returns

Before the monsoon rains scent the desert air again;

I will not be here to see the lesser nighthawks slice through the twilight

Or hear the twittering chatter of purple martins in flight.

I will not see the cactus bloom this year,

painting the desert in a riot of color in spring

as Palo Verdes burst with yellow blossoms along tree lined streets.

There is no way to convey this desert landscape.

You must be here to smell the fragrance of creosote after the rains;

You have to stand on your patio on a moonlit night and feel the desert wind caress your legs

While the coyote chorus sings down the canyon and calls up the moon.

You must be here to hear the Cactus Wrens cackle on a hot summer’s day,

Or hear the Rock Wrens trill from the mountain slopes.

I will not be here when the white-winged dove returns to perch on saguaro blossoms,

But, I will know they are here.

I have seen them before and I will know they are here again—desert birds in a desert landscape

Rich with life and memories of things seen and done and still to be done

When the white-winged dove returns.

~kathie adams brown (January 28, 2014)

A Bright Beginning

In the morning light the feathered gem

hovers in the sparkles of the irrigation rain

bejeweled and bedazzled by sunlight and water

green feathers gathering light and reflecting it

back in a spray of color

and morning magic,

while I walk the dog in the neighborhood park—

a bright beginning to my day.

~kathie adams brown (January 28, 2014)

An Ode to Sycamore Canyon

Sycamore Canyon 7-22-2010

I came to say “good-bye” to you,

I thought you’d make me cry,

but you have changed so much

and now I wonder why?

Your wild slopes have been torn up,

machinery rumbles on,

belching out its black exhaust

‘till all the birds have gone.

The bird song has diminished

and traffic noise increased.

though beauty still surrounds you,

You’ve lost your sense of peace!

I found a few fine sparrows,

the cactus wrens still call,

I walked right by an owl,

it made me feel quite small.

I think I’ll just remember you

the way you used to be,

there’s no stopping all this progress

but this Progress ain’t for me!

~Kathie Adams Brown (January 16, 2014)

A Winter's Dream

Swiftly on this winter's night
Orion takes his stealthy flight
across the dark and spangled sky
as the cold night slowly passes by,
and we mere mortals stop and stare
into the dome quite unaware
of heavenly battles being fought;
of dreams released and being caught
in sleepy heads on pillows laid--
it's in the stars that dreams are made!

~kathie adams brown (January 6, 2014)

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads

A Gift from Nature on Christmas Eve

Winter solstice is two days spent,

a half moon floats in the velvet dome of night,

I see Orion falling towards the western horizon,

a pale constellation over city lights.

Here in the desert the cool night breeze

wafts around my legs bare beneath my robe,

for I have run outside in response to the wild calls

of two great horned owls with romance in their hearts!

Love is in the air and on the rooftops of Tucson

on this Christmas Eve

I’m listening to the owl choir

as heaven and nature sing

on this not so silent night, this Holy Night,

I stand beneath Ursa Major

so thankful for this gift.

~Kathie Adams Brown (December 24, 2013)