Old Tree (Part 3)

Old Tree knows

The ways of the woods

The life that goes on and

The life that ends.

Old tree knows what renewal is

As each spring it is reborn again and again.

Yet old tree knows that when its time is done

It’s time to let go, release and become

One with the earth from which it was born

Supplying new roots with fresh nutrients from its tree bones.

~Kathie Adams Brown (December 23, 2011)

Old Tree (Part 2)

Old Tree,

I want to reach up to that cerulean blue sky,

I want to sway in the wind when it passes by,

I want to reach down with roots to grasp the earth strong,

Old tree, like you, I just want to belong.

~Kathie Adams Brown

Old Tree (Part 1)

Old tree in the woods,

Quiet and tall

Standing there day after day

Through storms and sunshine,

Sunrises and sunsets

Leaf drop and new leaves

and all that you’ve seen,

if I come close and listen

will you whisper your secrets to me,

or, lend me your strength

so I can reach down,

take hold, and grow

strong roots like you?

~Kathie Adams Brown (12-23-11)

Autumn in the Oaks Woods

There is a softness in the woods in autumn,
A stillness on a calm day
When leaves drift downwards
and pine needles tumble
and the air is pungent with dirt and dampness.
It is then that moss grows thick like velvet
on tree trunks, rocks and ground,
when the rust littered forest floor
crackles where you step.
Yes, there is a softness
a gentle good-bye to summer,
and a hush before winter begins.

~Kathie Adams Brown (11-10-11)

A River Flows

When tragedy comes,
A river flows
from my heart is a great swell of tears and emotions
and I am swept away
only to be tossed upon the shore
farther along in my life
bruised and battered
by the rocks and debris
lying unseen beneath the churning rapids.

Then, tossed upon the sand;
lying in the gravel,
my heart thunders in my chest
until it gains its quiet.
And I lie there in the sunshine
or the moonlight,
whatever the case may be
and breathe earth scents
and water, and life,
and rise again.

~Kathie Adams Brown (October 12, 2011)

One Single Impression


Prompt 189: River

The Artist in Me

There is an artist in me,

A stirring in my soul, a creativity I need to indulge,

So why do I deny it?

Art must be honored,

Preserved,

Expressed.

I will find my way out there,

And inward,

To that busy place,

Quiet place,

Active place

Of creativity.

~Kathie Adams Brown (October 5, 2011)


OSI Promt 188: Language

Grackles

Grackles,
falling like a plague on my feeders,
feeding like locusts in a  frenzy,
black leaves in autumn--here,
and then gone
Migration.

~Kathie Adams Brown

When Autumn was Delayed

I am ready for Autumn but,
it has been delayed,
after a brief tease of
cool nights
and crisp days
with the smoke of a wood fire
lingering in the night air
the sultry gray days of summer have returned
with mugginess, humidity, and mosquitoes
slugs slide across the lawn
a few gold tinted leave flutter to the damp ground
but everything hangs in this thick, soupy air
Waiting.

~Kathie Adams Brown (September 25, 2011)

I Know What is Coming

The Summer Grasses are starting to fade,
Daylight is slipping away,
I see the hint of color in the leaves,
and I know what is coming.
As blackbirds gather into flocks by the thousands
preparing to become a black ribbon in the blue sky
I feel the coming dormancy,
the future leaf drop,
the coming snow.
I feel the darkness coming,
and the dread.
I know what is coming...

~Kathie Adams Brown (August 20, 2011)

A Symphony of Silence

Silence…Is a blanket of calm

Wrapped around me—

A stillness in my heart and my soul,

A quiet place of peace.

Silence…is a gag

Holding back my words,

Restraining my thoughts,

Restraining my voice,

Keeping a secret,

Allowing a lie to exist.

Silence is the non-sound

Of wings in the night,

Falling on prey,

Swift and sudden,

Unheard and unknown,

Then it is over.

Silence…is the sweet calm in the night,

The soft rocking of a chair,

And a newborn finally asleep.

~Kathie Adams Brown (August 14, 2011)

One Single Impression Prompt 181: Silence

My Name is Fire

My name is Fire,
but I have fur
and a feisty temperment.
In the northern forest
I make my home
I scamper about on branches and scold
flicking my tail
of rusty red,
who am I
and what have I said?

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 23, 2011)

Maybe it's the Moonlight

Maybe it's the moonlight that's keeping me awake,
here on this summer night with teenagers wandering the streets
and cats fighting in the yard.
I heard their caterwauling,
then a car goes by,
and I am sitting here
in the false glow of my computer screen
missing out on moonlight.

I think I'll take a break
and shut this computer down
so I can hear the soft plop of water droplets from the recent rain,
and see the silver light of the summer moon
as it slips down the velvet sky towards dawn.

~Kathie Adams Brown (7-15-11)

After the Rain

I walk down the street

Past branches now laden

With fat green leaves

And glistening droplets.

This backdrop of spring

Is soft gray and slate

With emerald grass lawns

And lilacs in bloom.

Along the street I find small puddles

Clear at the top but thick blood brown

At the bottom

It looks like serum

Separated in a centrifuge

With platelets and red blood cells

And plasma

Is this the blood of springtime

Enriching the soil,

Causing all these trees to grow?

I like to think it is, so…

Drink up trees, ‘cause summer’s comin’

And I need some shade!

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 23, 2011)

Fire Song

Laughing, dancing, licking,

Yellow-warmth-light

Wood smoke and embers

Sizzle sing and spark

POP!  Snap! Crackle song,

Fragrant and warm,

Curling around me,

Embracing me,

With comforting music

On a cold and dreary

 day.

~Kathie Adams Brown  (5-23-11)

Water Music

I can hear the music
the steady lullaby
of water in the night
slipping through the dark,
sliding down the roof,
falling to the ground.
My soul is thirsty
for this refreshing song
of water music--
a rainstorm in the night.

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 19, 2011)

Bobolink

In a sea of green waving grass you flutter
up in jubilant song
black feathers, yellow and white excitement,
with notes incomprehensible,
a melody that captures the heart and
raptures the soul
in one glorious exhibition,
one small bird
in a hay field
in spring.

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 20, 2011)


One Single Impression Prompt 168: Exhibition

The Dragon in His Den

The Dragon in his den,
separate from men,
in a world of his own making,
unattached and unacknowledged.
He is angry that the world
does not notice him,
does not bow down to him,
so he ROARS!
He spews his anger and his pain
on everyone he meets, then,
grows silent again.
He yawns his boredom at authority,
he never meets your eyes,
He strikes!
then scampers back to his cave
to wallow in his own stew
of fear, self-pity, and arrogance.

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 19, 2011)

I Did Not Know What Spring Would Bring

Red-winged blackbirds that trill at dawn,
Robins hunting on the lawn,
Muskrats swimming in sunset light,
Wood ducks nesting in the night,
Phoebes freely flicking tails,
Reeds and cattails hiding Rails,
Tree swallows swooping through the air,
Grackles, grackles, everywhere,
Chipmunk sitting on a stone,
Great Blue Heron flies alone,
To see it all makes my heart sing,
I did not know what spring would bring!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 13, 2011)

The Bones of Winter

Remnants of snow melt into the lake
Swelling its pewter volume to flow like liquid glass
Into the forest edges,
and here I stand among the wet leaves,
brown and rotting on the earth
it’s not quite warm enough yet
for new leaves to unfold,
tender and lime green;
the fingers of sunlight have yet to reach
deep into the soil and caress life into the dormant roots
stroking them tenderly
and encouraging the sap to flow,
enticing new life from black earth.

I see the bones of winter around me
rib cage hung with sinew
hide still on the head
It’s been a long, hard winter
With teeth like a coyote
Biting into flesh,
but with the return of the sun I feel new life
boiling in my soul,
I feel it surging like the rivers
swollen with snowmelt
washing away winter’s bones.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 13, 2011)

I've Been Waiting for the Crocuses

I've been waiting for the crocuses

to poke their tender shoots

through frozen earth mud

and point the way skyward

until the warm kiss of spring

causes them to swell

and burst forth in bloom

with petal colors like confetti

strewn across the lawn.

~Kathie Adams Brown (3-7-11)

Crocuses in my backyard 3-18-11

Twilight, Gray Light

Twilight,
Gray Light,
Trees toss,
Birds cross,
Skyway,
Highway,
for all creatures
with wings!

~Kathie Adams Brown

Skywatch Friday

The Barren Beauty

In the barren beauty of the bog
life stirs
beneath the silver frozenness
spring's warmth is waiting
to melt and caress
the earth's stubby face.

In the forest the trees blush
red, then lime green with new
shoots tender and translucent;
the birds return with songs
bursting in their breasts,
and nesting materials in their beaks,
and eggs warm in the nest.

~Kathie Adams Brown (3-7-11)

Ghosts in the Forest (Inspired by Debby Kaspari's Art)

Ancient dreams
ancient bones
old stones
forgotten memories
linger in the mist
wafting through the trees
reaching through the ages
to tickle our brains
with questions
and musings
and curiosity
until the stories pile
bone on bone or
stone on stone
and an image is formed
of what was,
what is, and
what will be.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 25, 2011)

Inspired by the paintings of Debby Kaspari The Ghosts in the Forest

In the Backyard the Rain

In the backyard the rain
pounding forms a small pond
up against the iceberg
formed by the last snow storms,
dirty snow piled high
pushed away so one can enter
this backyard landscape, a miniature version
of this wide snowy world
in transition.
Soon the crocus will bloom in the front yard.
Soon, soon.

~ Kathie Adams Brown (February 25, 2011)

Endless Winter

Ice-coated dreams
Running down the windows
Running down the walls
Encasing all in its dripping grip
Of an endless winter.

~Kathie Adams Brown 2-5-11

Inner Strength

That muscled oak
Outside my window
Lifting strong gray arms
To hold up the sky
Lifts me up also
When I feel weak
Inside.

~Kathie Adams Brown 2-5-11

Aroostook County Winter

The sun shone today.
It glistened and sparkled on the snow.
The wind blew cold upon me
And I felt trapped.
No longer does the beauty
Of this place touch me
The isolation has become a trap.
I feel that I must flee, but,
Where to?
What do I want?
Where is the place
That I can call Home?

~Kathiesbirds (1-22-98)

And the Dragon Roars

I live beneath the dragon’s lair
I listen to him roar
I hear him daily stomp his feet
Above me on his floor
He spews his venom on the world
No matter whom you are
He doesn’t care whom he burns
Or if he leaves a scar
For the dragon only knows one thing
He cares only for himself.

The raging dragon licks his wounds
and blames the passing world
for everything his flaming tongue
brings back on him:

For every charred ember,
For all the soot in his life,
For all the darkness he dwells in.

He does not see
That he is the source
Of his own misery.
And the Dragon R-O-A-R-S!


~Kathie Adams Brown (2-8-11)

This Winter White

When the winter dark and dreary
makes me feel, oh so weary,
and my eyes get oh so blurry,
from looking at all this white!
I start to think of sunny things,
pretty flowers, birds with wings,
hiking on a sunny day
through grasses green
and fresh mown hay,
it lifts my spirits and my mind
and mentally I leave behind
this cold white cage that quells my song,
this winter white and deep and long.

~Kathie Adams Brown (2-5-11)

Abundance

Abundance is more than food

or drink,

It is a fullness of heart,

a thankfulness,

a contenment in the soul,

a serenity.

It is a warm and quiet place to eat your breakfast

On a cold winter’s day.

~Kathie Adams Brown (1-20-11)

One Single Impression

The Little Emperor

The Little Emperor stomps his feet
demanding all the time
that the world revolve around him,
that the world bow down to him,
that the world get out of his way,
for he is coming through.

The Little Emperor will shout
with words both loud and vulgar
he has no care for others,
he has no thought but for himself,
he sees no pain but his own,
he hears no plea but his own,
he is the center of his own world,
and all else revolves around HIM.

The Little Emperor is large
in height and breadth and width,
but in a mystery he can't fathom,
the more he puffs himself up
the smaller he becomes.

~Kathie Adams Brown (1-15-11)

Winter Bog

Winter Bog 1-1-11

The winter bog is stark and lovely,

blue and rust, bare bones and ice,

a quiet place for life

until the raucous crows crow! ~KAB