The Birds of Adams Farm by

In memory of Mary Oliver

The Birds of Adams Farm
Akila Metheny

I will adorn myself
with devotion
for the world and its intricacies
since this is also a creation of the Lord’s.

The morning brings with it
the nectar of its colors,
a breath of promise.
All of the finches, cardinals, wood thrushes
gather themselves in the trees,
trilling their prayers before
dropping as beads of light
to the ground to eat.

Look at the birds of the air
they neither sow nor reap nor
gather into barns, and yet
your heavenly father feeds them. ¹

The pond is a shimmering dress today;
a soloist making her entrance onstage
in her sequined gown
who will make music with the wind,
the light clapping steadily.

The seagulls gather in twos and threes,
scouting for fish.
They are no longer birds,
they have become flailing white knives
slicing into glass.
They break the veil
between light and dark.

One of them has caught a fish.
The others fling themselves,
darting lights, to flank him as he
clutches his catch.
He swings up and then falls away in the air,
the others to each side of him in
an airborne dance,
hoping he will drop his silver.

Blue herons post themselves as sentries
on the banks,
each assigned to his own part.
If one of them breaks into
the other’s land, the offended
croaks and curses as he chases
the unwelcomed,
snake neck arched.

Everything occurs beneath
the bald eagle’s sight path
as he flies
at such great heights;
he is able to be everywhere and one place at once

much like the soul

Matthew 6:26

Akila Metheny is an alumna of UNCG (class of 2015). She dabbles in poetry as a hobby and has recently come out of a two-year-long writing hiatus. Her father, who inspired her to write, is a widely published poet named Gary Metheny whose work appears in several national and international literary magazines.

Her Instagram account is @l.t.grey.poems, where she is primarily known for her poetry under that pseudonym.

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