Category Archives: Poetry

Ode to Teachers

I wanted to blog and post pictures of some great cloud formations around Edmonton last night, but I received an email and there was an idea I could not resist. We each had teachers, and I use the word in its broadest definition, who made an impact on our lives. Ruth is someone I taught with for 12 years.  I use the word taught guardedly and refuse to use the work word to describe our relationship. We learned together. Learning is different and is relational. In her email, she described a visit with a parent of a former student and shared this phrase, ‘child whisperer.’

Each of us, had or have people in our lives in many forms who fit the phrase. They remind us of what the root word of educate is–educare. Even the Latin word speaks of care, which I think is vital to the relational nature of learning.

I can think of many who filled the role. Sister Phillips was my first grade teacher. She was a member of the Catholic order the Sisters of Service and it was special in her class. Later, in high school, I had Ms. Lyford, a short, stocky Australian woman who loved Shakespeare. She once said, “Ivon, if you only tried you would be an A student.” She did it loving and in a caring way, I think. I was good with a B and explained that to her.

Outside school it was my grandmother and mother. I still learn from them although the former is long past away and my mother lives 8 hours away. I learned from my father-in-law and mother-in-law and, needless to say, I learn from the daughter I married. I learn from our boys and my students in many ways. This list is incomplete, but the point is : Great teachers are great not because they tell you do something, but because they lead you to want to do it and ignite your imagination and spirit for learning in a magical way .”

Blend compassion and passion

Bring out the best in each child

Walk with them

Open your heart

Greet them

With your story

Receive their stories gently

Reveal vulnerability

Be a guide they need

In each moment

Learn, share, create

Listen and hear

And speak in a voice

Only a child whisperer can.

Take a moment, tell us about a teacher or teachers who made a difference for you, who whispered at the right moment and spoke the right words lighting a fire in your spirit.

Granite Fortress

This is the Rocky Mountains as I looked southwest at Pincher Creek, Alberta. They are spectacular, but as you move towards them and Waterton Lakes National Park they are more majestic. Several years ago, I drove back through Browning, Montana and crossed the border south of Cardston, Alberta. As I drove north, I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the solid face of the granite rising out of the prairie floor. Seeing nature’s glory is humbling.

Rock reaches

Steel gray granite

Rises from prairie

Skyward bound.

I am insignificant

In this place.

Mountains,

Walled guardians

Impenetrable reminders of real gifts.

I am taking a short break, so have a great July 13, 2012.

Henry David Thoreau

It is the 150th anniversary of Thoreau’s death. I find his thinking and writing refreshing. His quotes always give on pause to think about the world and this short poem expresses what one can hope life will be like. I just finished reading Experiments in Ethics by Kwame Appiah. If I could summarize that with one quote, it would be this one by Thoreau. I added a haiku below the picture.

experience life

a rich, bountiful harvest

savour over time.

Have a great July 12, 2012. Smile at someone; make them wonder.

Is It Art?

Last night, I went for a short walk and on the way back sat on a bench overlooking the Spokane River. There are two benches there. I glanced over at the second bench and noticed three pine cones. There is a pattern emerging here: one of me, two benches, and three pine cones. The cones were neatly organized and I wondered who left the art behind. The wonder was strong enough I share the picture and a few lines of poetry.

A gift received

Left by nature in some form

Maybe urban art.

Have a great July 11th, 2012

There Are a Lot of Mockingbirds in This Book by Mary Oliver

Sabbath was good. I feel rejuvenated and more at rest plus I got a lot done. Sat quietly twice during the day, went to church, and shared pizza with friends.

I read. I randomly chose a poem from Evidence by Mary Oliver called There Are Lot of Mockingbirds in This Book and read when I first got up. The last three stanzas really stood out. We plan and over plan and it is those unexpected things that reveal themselves. We just have to wait. I also read Derek Boks, Parker Palmer, Thich Nhat Hanh, and Wayne Muller, a bit of an eclectic mix.

The quiet gave me time to digest food and food for thought. I disconnected to reconnect.

this is isn’t nature

where the sweetest things, being hidden in leaves

and thorn-thick bushes

reveal themselves rarely–

this is a book

of the heart’s rapture,

of hearing and praising

and never forgetting

so that the world

is what the world is

in a long lifetime:

singer after singer

bursts from the thorn bush,

now, and again, and again,

their songs in the mind forever.

Have a great 10th of July. Smile at someone secretly.

Sabbath – A Poem

Recently, I posted Humility and referenced Wayne Muller’s book Sabbath: Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest. He suggested we all need to take time, disconnect, and do those things and be with those people in our immediate lives which bring us moments of quiet and refuge. He has offered a new awareness for me of what was missing in my life, a calm, tranquil, restful time I share with those immediately around me and my self. I am disconnected for the next 36 hours. I will just be.

I leave with a found poem of sorts. I chose words from the book that exemplified my understanding of Sabbath. I look forward to comments and likes when I return on Monday morning.

Shine the light

Reveal a next step

On the journey.

Moments of remembrance

Blessing gifts received

Delight in life

Reflect in wonder.

Uplift the spirit

Care for the body

Rest your soul

Take refuge

Take sanctuary

In the moment

Hibernate, lie fallow.

Insight, wisdom, compassion

Arise from stillness

A bell chimes

Time transformed

Mindfulness consecrates the day

Timeless words revere the day.

Bring forward

Right speech, right action, right effort

Break bread

Companionship

Refuge.

Heal, liberate, surrender

Receive and give

Lovingkindness

In each breath

An inner light attracts

Leads home

In each breath

The rhythms of life, earth, action, rest

The Sabbath arrives.

Haiku Haven

I had some thoughts come to me while sitting quietly and wanted to share them in the form of a haiku.

ebbing and flowing

each moment’s uniqueness

a tended garden.

Melody Lowes inspired the second poem. She is a wonderful poet, photographer, and gardener. She posted a poem called Baby Steps.

 slow is freedom’s flight

a question to live into

gifts of poetry.

In Those Years by Adrienne Rich

As I posted the last two or three blogs, I realized sometimes how little we think of we and we individually think of I. I am often guilty of this. Life experienced is a relational enterprise. I think it does start with the I, but moves out to embrace the Thou in the way writers such as Martin Buber meant. We experience life through relational experiences of I and Thou.

Adrienne Rich provided us with poetry as a daily reminder of “no man being an island.”

In those years, people will say, we lost track

of the meaning of we, of you

we found ourselves

reduced to I

and the whole thing became

silly, ironic, terrible:

we were trying to live a personal life

and, yes, that was the only life we could bear witness to

But the dark birds of history screamed and plunged

into our personal weather

They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove

along the shore, through the rags of fog

where we stood, saying I

Take care with those who you are we with and enjoy them today. Have a good 7th of July.

Are You Okay, God?

I read Seven Lessons of Chaos by John Briggs and David Peat last summer. They used a koan about a ‘hole in the whole’ describing what we do when we analyze things and lose the mystery of the wholeness in life. We break life and its events down, analyze them, and forget to put all the pieces back and lose something vital in the connectedness to the world, leaving a “hole in the whole.” Humans attempt to explain the mystery of life and not embrace it and the richness of our existence. Mystery and spirituality work together. We cannot intellectually explain the fullness and mystery of life. Thomas Merton and Shunryu Suzuki spoke of this attempt as human arrogance.

A former student took this picture, again with pretty straightforward phone technology, and the beauty, the richness, and the wholeness it conveyed is powerful. It reminded me of the song we learned as children There is a Hole in My Bucket. The hole in the clouds or bucket could be there for a reason we do not understand. Despite the potential arrogance, I wrote a short poem that might explain the hole.

Sprinting, scrambling, scurrying

Hoping, praying

Feeling hard, cold raindrops

Burning through my clothes

Smelling rain and fear.

Suddenly, blue and gold in the blackness

A light shone

A candle gently flickering.

I whispered, “Thank God!”

I am startled by a voice

“Are you OK, Ivon?”

“I think so.”

“Is that you God?”

“Is the hole to find my way?”

“By the way, thanks for asking. Are you OK?”

A pause

I thought a heard a smile

A sigh for sure, before

“I am now.”

Silence returned

Not falling, just silent

Embracing, reassuring, supporting,

Opening my eyes,

I looked up

I was home

A light shone through the window,

A second haven

Warm, well-lit, welcoming

With voices asking, “Are you OK?”

Saying, “We were worried.”

I wonder if we ever wonder if God is OK?

We should ask every now, and

Listen quietly in the storm for an answer,

It is there.

The 4th of July – An Outsider’s Perspective

Kathy and I spend part of our summers in Spokane and other places south of the US-Canada border. The first time we experienced the Fourth of July, the celebration, camaraderie, and heart-felt patriotism readily evident amazed me.Whatever differences Americans have with each other, are set aside for this day and more. The 4th begins several days before and lasts several days after the 4th. I use the code. One doesn’t say the phrase; saying the 4th is enough. Have a Good 4th means something more than just have a good day.

One summer, in Portland, celebrations continued for several days after the 4th with fireworks displays in the river valley. Another year, we met a family in Yellowstone who had just left Mount Rushmore where about 250, 000 people gathered for the 4th. In Canada, that requires every member of some provinces or territory gather and, sometimes, more invitations need to be sent out to reach that number.

I glanced through Parker Palmer’s latest book, Healing the Heart of Democracy, and found a passage from Leonard Cohen’s song, Democracy. I have listened to this song many times, but re-seeing the words made rethink their meaning, with a beginner’s mind. I often wondered if Cohen portrayed American democracy in a negative light, but seeing the words again I saw something different. It is a hopeful message acknowledging the messiness and awkwardness of democracy at work and that America is a place where the democratic experiment is still happening. America is a place where family exists in the broadest sense and the heart is full and open to democracy.

Imagine if you could make the 4th an every day event, engage everyone, and export the message of hopefulness, patriotism, and democracy well and fully lived, based on the model of the 4th? What a world we would live in!

It’s coming to America first,

the cradle of the best and the worst.

It’s here they got the range

and the machinery for change

and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.

It’s here the family’s broken

and it’s here the lonely say

that the heart has got to open

in a fundamental way:

Democracy is coming to the U.S.A

This is a picture of some early fireworks we took on the 3rd, 2012.

Have a great 4th