Thursday, February 21, 2013

Run to the Wild Places


Whenever I am lost to myself
I run to the wild places
Seeking my true self
In the deep green forest of New England,
I am the Wood Thrush’s song,
In the Colorado Rockies
My spirit soars with eagles,
In the dry desert canyons of Arizona,
I run with the coyotes,
Along the ocean’s shore
I cut through the air like a shearwater,
Or play in the surf like a sanderling,
I am an antelope on the prairie,
A wild horse running on the plains,
I am a wild thing, and I need these wild places,
For they are all me,
And they make me feel alive.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 7, 2013)

3 comments:

  1. Hi Kathie

    A lovely poem and I really like the photo of pronghorns I find them facinating.

    Guy

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  2. Guy, I love pronghorns! They are the greatest symbol of the wild west to me!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Just lovely--and reassuring. Thank you.

    ReplyDelete

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