My Soul Has Found Her Place Again

At the end of the day
On the banks of the stream
By the still water I stand
Warmed by the tea cup in my hand
And watch the calm water
Creased by the wake of a muskrat
Joyfully swimming through
The evening stillness.

I am in the best cathedral
The tall pines forming lush green walls,
And surrounded by the angel chorus
Of frogs,
And the whinny of the robins
As they settle in for the night.
This flat, gray water soothes my harried soul
And I feel the stillness settle in my spirit
And nestle around my beating heart
And I know,
My soul has found her place again.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 24, 2016)

Canada Goose

You are a wild thing

and from your feathered breast

I feel my own heart beating,

and when you fly and cry

Your haunting wild song

I hear the yearning of my own soul

to know the wild places that you know,

to see the places you have seen,

to feel that wind beneath my wings,

…if only I had your wings, your eyes,

…if only I could sing your wild cries,

…if only I had the freedom to fly.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 1, 2016)

The Freeing Wind

Trapped inside by this humid haze

My thoughts, a foggy slug

Dullness is the drink of the day,

—I can barely breathe!

—I can barely move!

and I don’t care if I do either…

But, then a cool breeze starts to play

among the leaves in my backyard,

and dappled sunlight does a dance

on the surface of the deck and table

igniting just a little spark of life in me.

Suddenly the trees begin to sway

they clap their hands as Wind blows

all the humidity away!

I turn the roaring air conditioner off!

Flinging windows wide,

I let the Wind inside!

Now the sounds of Nature fill my ears

My thoughts, my mind becoming clear,

I just need to go outside it seems,

And awaken from these lethargic dreams!

~Kathie Adams Brown (September 9, 2015)

Summer Rain

I just want to sit and listen to this rain

I want to turn off the manmade world and let Nature sooth my soul.

The repeated phrases of a vireo’s song are dripping from the trees.

Tufted titmice, gray as this stormy sky, scold and call from foliage

embracing me like verdant arms.

This summer rain in the north woods is a lovely place to be;

If the earth is my mother, then,

I am snuggling into her breast

and listening to her beating heart,

and this rain is not the sound of weeping but,

a soothing lullaby.

~Kathie Adams Brown (July 1, 2015)

I Just Want to be Outside

I have been so busy

The words bottled up inside

Like a dam

Built across my brain,

Holding back the tide

Bogged down by responsibilities,

I am lost inside

I must be outside to find release,

I must be outside to find my peace,

I need to go outside,

to find my inner calm,

I just want to be outside!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 25, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

Hallelujah Forest

I've been waiting for the music of this dark night,

warm on an evening in April

Spring peepers singing from dark, wet woods,

vernal pools alive

with the Rites of Spring

I stand in the darkness listening

as the chorus swells and fills the air

rising like a tide from the forest—

Handel's Hallelujah,

Beethoven’s Ode to Joy,

this is the music I hear

in this woodland cathedral,

rising from the vernal pools

with croaking voices singing,

and all the peepers peeping,

Majestic voices of

Amphibian Angels.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 16, 2015)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

I Don't Know Whether

I don’t know whether

It’s the weather

That moves me to wrote poetry,

Or moves me to climb a tree!

If I had some feathers

I would not mind the weather.

I could perch outside in a tree,

Or fly above the canopy!

And I would not wonder whether

It would be snow, or rain, or sunny weather,

I’d just take flight with all my feathers

In whatever weather!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 10, 2015)

National Poetry Writing Month/ 30 Poems in 30 Days 2015

At Last

At last the warm air drifted in

after a long, cold and bitter winter

a day when birds landed in droves

and fresh warm air filled the land.

I, breathing the scent of that warmth,  

cast off my chores for the day,

and stayed outside.

All day.

It was as if I had been released from a long imprisonment.

I walked through mud that sucked at my shoes.

I listened to the trickle of melting snow as it formed puddles around me.

The music of song sparrows drifted over the wet, melting earth

—a song of joy to me!

And then in the evening, as dusk settled like a fawn to the ground,

the peenting of woodcocks was heard

and the winnowing of their wings in an eager mating flight display

and I stood in the yard, my mouth agape,

Listening to the music of spring—at last!

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 4, 2015)

NaPoWriMo/ 30 Poems in 30 Days

Red Ribbons

Cardinals are the bright
red ribbons in the landscape
calling, "cheer, cheer, cheer"

Winter Woods

Winter woods are gray and silent,

Soft, and deep, and frosty,

In pine and spruce scented air,

Ice crystals cling like jeweled lichen,

Birch trees shining silver against the other pewter trees,

Branches all askew,

Reaching for the sky,

With green draped hemlocks

Dancing in the glen,

The whistling winds sings

Winter’s here again.

The tiny trumpet call of nuthatches

Breaks the woodland’s sleep,

And it’s then that I remember,

“I have promises to keep.”

So softly I pad back

Down this winter woodland trail,

To the waiting warmth of my winter cottage,

To my winter woodland home.

Kathie Adams Brown (12-30-14)

The Journey

Photo of Balanced Rock at Chiricahua National Monument courtesy of Donna Simonetti

I am going hiking

To a place I’ve never been,

To the snow covered Chiricahuas

To find my place of Balance

I can hear my footfalls,

I can feel the soft snowflakes falling on my face,

I feel the others with me,

Ancient spirits walking

This same trail

Seeking their soul’s moment,

Seeking and finding their balance

In this place so far from manmade things,

In this place so wild,

One is reborn

And made new.

I hear Raven calling,

Black wings against the white,

He is sharing his wisdom

And guiding my way.

With each footfall, I hear the chorus of garooing

Sandhill cranes emerge briefly in the shifting gray clouds above

Then fade away like phantoms in the mist,

While I watch each snowflake fall softly on the earth,

And coat the ground around me, erasing my steps

I follow the trail through lichen covered boulders

To the place of Balance

In these eternal heights

And I hold on.

I hold on to this thought

while the mask covers my face

and I slip into a dream

beneath the surgeon’s knife.

~Kathie Adams Brown (December 20, 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

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)

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)

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)

Down the Green Road

Down the green road I drive,

water on both sides,

seagulls wheeling overhead,

and then I see her glide,

black wings spread wide,

white head, white tail, yellow beak and feet,

talons stretched she lands

on prey in the green field,

 a picture of wildness as I drive,

on this green road,

this coastal road,

in the Maine countryside.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 30, 2014)

Today is the last day of National Poetry Month, and I just could not let it end without writing at least one new poem. This is inspired by my drive home from the town today when I saw a Bald Eagle land a nearby field. Click on the link below to see what other poets have done.

NaPoWriMo 2014

Spring Song

The fields and forest call to me

I need to run and play

So many months and years have passed

Since I have been away.

The scent of new mown hay I need,

the color of ripening wheat,

the purple, green and blue of mountains

 rising strong and sweet,

the sight of newborn calves curled up,

in meadows in the spring,

the skylarks singing perched on fences—I know why they sing!

The trees that whisper in the breeze

beside a chattering brook,

an eagle soaring in the sky—I need to run and look!

Whether a full moon rising in a starry night,

or the fireball setting, shedding golden light,

God’s creation calls to me,

Oh! Let me run and see!

~Kathie Adams Brown (May 8, 1994)

• NaPoWriMo 2014

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

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 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)