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

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)

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)

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)