Monthly Archives: March 2013

The Opening of Eyes

I arrive at the end of another week. It was a quiet week in many ways. Next week includes parent-teacher interviews and will be more hectic. When I reflected, I thought of the Marcel Proust quote: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” I need the quiet and the solitude which allows me to achieve one glimpse at a time.

I found my way to this David Whyte poem which proposed a similar message. The poet echoed Proust in the second stanza. As I open my eyes, my heart and mind open in astonishment as the wonder of silence finds a new world that was always there, a paradox.

That day I saw beneath dark clouds
the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read.

It is the opening of eyes long closed.
It is the vision of far off things
seen for the silence they hold.
It is the heart after years
of secret conversing
speaking out loud in the clear air.

It is Moses in the desert
fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
It is the man throwing away his shoes
as if to enter heaven
and finding himself astonished,
opened at last,
fallen in love with solid ground.

This poem and prayer is a great way to quietly begin the day. Take care and enjoy.

Haiku Sampling

I have not posted haiku for a while. We wrote haiku as our last activity of the poetry unit. Whenever we write poems, I roam the classroom with a marker in hand. There are four whiteboards in the room and I write randomly as thoughts come. It helps students on two levels. I write poetry and it is not just them being told to do it. As well, I offer exemplars, some good and some less so. Here is a haiku sampling.

Water seeks freedom

Released from lethargy

Water plunges, plummets.

100_4206

Fry it in a pan

Friends for eggs and potatoes

Pig meat, oh soooo good!

Did I mention some were not great?

Fedora wearing

The coolest Rat Pack member

Sinatra maybe.

One student wears a fedora. I mentioned that it reminded me of the Rat Pack. He had no idea what that was or who Frank Sinatra was, but I told him it was cool to be compared to Frank Sinatra.

Well it is not this kind of day in Alberta. We are in the midst of a return of winter complete with cold and snow. But, it does not prevent me from closing my eyes and imagining this day as proposed by Billy Collins. I imagine being released from my snow-covered cottage.

silverbirchpress's avatarSilver Birch Press

Image

TODAY

by BIlly Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

 

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

 

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

 

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

 

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

 

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

 

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

 

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

 

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

Photo by CT1967, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:Billy Collins (born 1941) served as Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001-2003 and…

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My mother used to say, “If all your friends jumped off the High Level Bridge (insert your closest bridge with any drop), would you. Apparently, yes was not the right answer. We need to listen to the wisdom closest to us. As we grow up, it is from our elders, but eventually we become the elders. Then what?

Paul Mark Sutherland's avatarGYA today

Your Mom called. She just wanted to remind you:

Right_Is_Right

Oh, and also, that ethics and honesty are REALLY important.

Enjoy!

 

original graphic credit: Classroom Posters

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I pastori (The Shepherds)

I might have posted this lovely poem by Gabrielle D’Annunzio in September as I began school, but it speaks to me. Perhaps, I am better off to read it at other times than the beginning.

I recalled the poem, when I heard of the election of the Pope, Francis I. I thought it was a fitting name for the person who would be a shepherd. I hope he fulfills his Jesuit tradition of social justice and teaching.

When I heard the name he chose, it reminded of St. Francis of Assisi. Kathy and I used the Prayer of St. Francis as part of our wedding ceremony and hangs on our bedroom wall.

September, let’s go. It’s time to migrate.

Now in the land of Abruzzi my shepherds

leave the folds and go towards the sea:

they go down to the wild Adriatic

that is green like mountain pastures.

They’ve drunk deeply from the Alpine fonts,

so that the taste of their native water

may stay in their exiled hearts for comfort

to deceive their thirst along the way.

They’ve renewed their hazelnut sticks.

And they go along the ancient bridleway,

that is almost like a silent grassy river

in the traces of the ancient ancestors.

Oh voice of the one who first

discerns the shimmering of the sea!

Now along this coast moves the flock.

Without movement is the air.

The sun bleaches the living wool so that

it almost blends into the sand.

Swishing, stamping, sweet sounds.

Ah why am I not with my shepherds?

This is a beautiful picture with a short, simple poem. Water is a giver of life along with love. They flow, but can be dammed and stopped.

Catherine Arcolio's avatarLeaf And Twig

DSC02566
Water
the giver
of life.

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Sometimes, it is the willingness to let go just a little that makes all the difference in the world. It is flying a kite and releasing some string to stretch upwards.

Sirena's avatarSirena Tales

“Let out a little more string on your kite.” (Alan Cohen)

What, now?

Ease

bound wound

gripping

 for dear life

so tightly

 taut

nearly snapping string

me

tangled, twisted knot?

If you

just you

take one breath

one

perhaps

on this sun-kissed breeze of possibility

you could

lift

 lilt

like your long ago smile.

IMG_0478

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Sonnets to Orpheus II, 29

I am often challenged to see life’s challenges as ways to grow; to turn the bitter into wine. It has become easier with age, maturity, and perhaps wisdom. It is easier to embrace change as inevitable and life is a transient journey I am on. Nothing remains constant and static. It becomes easier to reclaim my voice with an attitude of resilience. I stand in ways that allow me to move back and forth into the pain and breathe. Rilke spoke of this so well in this wonderful poem.

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.

Let this darkness be a bell tower and you the bell.

As you ring, what batters you becomes your strength.

Move back and forth into the change.

What is it like, such intensity of pain?

If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night, be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,

the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you, say to the silent earth: I flow.

To the rushing water, speak: I am.

How often have I held onto something that was not good and healthy for me?

Whitebird & Speaks With Wings's avatarSoul Writings

Photo
Eve Journeyjoke

Shared by “Wendy”

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