Tag Archives: nature

Art and Haiku

Posted on April 9, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

We are artists the Fridays we attend. I am not an artist, but have the good fortune to have parents who contribute and are quite artistic. A number of the students are good artists as well. Our first artistic venture was Grid Art. I included a couple of pictures today with a little poetry along with images. I used my cell phone camera so I don’t think the pictures turned out well.

winged clouds above

contrasted against blueness

majestic in flight

Brilliant colour

Emerges from black richness

Ever expanding

7 Comments

Posted in Haiku, Lesson Plans, Nature in All Its Glory, Photography, Poetry and tagged Art, arts, cosmos, creativity, education, Mindful Practice, nature, photography, poetry, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Haiku Sampling

Posted on March 16, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

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.

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.

20 Comments

Posted in Education, Haiku, Lesson Plans, Poetry and tagged education, Frank Sinatra, haiku, nature, poetry, Rat Pack, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Little Gidding V

Posted on February 23, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

As I rested today, I missed the opportunity to be out there exploring. T. S. Eliot eloquently spoke of this. I seek for and find when I explore the cyclical journey we call life. When I open my eyes, my heart, and my mind like a small child I find the apple-tree of my dreams. When I quiet my thoughts I can hear in the stillness between the waves. The gap between the stimulus and response grows in that way.

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half heard, in the stillness
Between the two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always–
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of things shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

17 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, Little Gidding V, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, spirituality, T. S. Eliot, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Manifesto of a Mad Farmer

Posted on February 19, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

Tony at A Way With Words asked if I like Wendell Berry. I do and rank him among my favourite poets. When I hear or read his name, I think of this poem.

What does it mean to be radical? The word radical comes from Old English and means going to one’s origins or roots. When I read this poem, it reminds me of the possibilities in a radical life. I can seek out my roots, the wisdom of those who came before me, and lived on the land. I love the second stanza and it just carries on from there for the rest of the poem.

Do something that does not compute, make many tracks, and sometimes confuse the world of where I go. Go against the grain.

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion – put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

21 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Synchronicity and tagged creativity, eloquent questions, Manifesto of a Mad Farmer, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, stewardship, teacher as transformer, Wendell Berry. Bookmark the permalink.

Replenish

Posted on January 19, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I head to a retreat tonight and I hope that it replenishes my creative spirit. These are the lyrics to a song by Claudia Schmidt. The poem has a nature theme, but the idea of replenishing one’s self is strong, natural, and metaphoric in this case.

We go on, we go on,

Canoe under the hot sun,

The upturned paddles guide liquid to our

dry mouths.

Water within us, water surrounds us,

A great mystery our becoming dry at all.

Replenish, replenish, all must be replenished.

The water within and without.

All that fills, all that surrounds us:

The great whistling pines,

The tenacious beaver,

The ancient loon,

The rush of the young eagle’s wings as it

dips low over our canoe.

Replenish!

The eyes bathed in this delicate solitude,

The trembling eternity,

Called back in mid-sweep only to be

assessed by green parched eyes

Replenish!

Each shriveled heart

Which has its moments only at events set

aside for its song,

But cannot fly for the connection

Between the rock and the human body,

The heron’s wing and the hope in our souls,

We go on,

We go on.

Our paddles dance with the lake water to

the music in our throats.

We will grow dry again

Perhaps leap into the water

A small and symbolic celebration of a great

and endless task

Which gracefully undertaken,

Might allow us to go on, and on, and on.

15 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged Claudia Schmidt, creativity, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, Replenish, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Fueled

Posted on January 8, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I thought I was ready to get into the swing of things after Christmas break, but I recovering from the blight of the time of the year-the flu. I feel better today, but took it pretty easy the last couple of days. I think tomorrow will be a transition day and the break ends on Wednesday.

I spent time in reflection, as best as that happen when medicated, and considered how rarely the small things in life, that make it incredible, are uplifted. I applaud human endeavours, and some of them are worthy, but forget the triumph of the unobservable. Marcie Hans provided this wonderful poem that shines a light on this dilemma.

Fueled
by a million
man-made
wings of fire-
the rocket tore a tunnel
through the sky-
and everybody cheered.
Fueled
only by a thought from God-
the seedling
urged its way
through thicknesses of black-
and as it pierced
the heavy ceiling of the soil-
and launched itself
up into outer space –
no
one
even
clapped.

–Marcie Hans

47 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged eloquent questions, Fueled, Marcie Hans, Mindful Practice, nature, servant-leadership, stewardship, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Lost

Posted on December 9, 2012 by ivonprefontaine

David Wagoner wrote this poem. It reminds me, as I enter Sabbath, there is a need to be still, to be quiet, and listen attentively. It is in the quiet I hear answers and sometimes those are new questions without the certainty of a ready answer I sought. Those answers sought are often formed before the question is posed.

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

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Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, David Wagoner, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Peace of Wild Things

Posted on December 5, 2012 by ivonprefontaine

I have parent-teacher interviews for the next two evenings. It limits the time available for posting my own words. I began thumbing through one of my many poetry anthologies and came across this wonderful Wendell Berry poem that echoed yesterday’s post, Children in ways. Two of his poems at the link are about mad farmers. Wendell Berry is a compassionate, opinionated person. When I grow up, I want to be similar.

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

18 Comments

Posted in Education, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments and tagged creativity, education, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer, Wendell Berry. Bookmark the permalink.

Winter Nights

Posted on December 1, 2012 by ivonprefontaine

It is December 1 and Christmas is just around the corner. The last few days I recalled what it was like in rural northern Alberta at this time of the year. We used to sit upstairs and look out the window on cold, cold nights shimmering with white. What caught my eye and ear was the magic provided by the Northern Lights or Aurora Borealis. They don’t appear in Edmonton as I recall them from my childhood memories. What message was in those celestial colours and sounds?

Small children–

Breathlessly wait,

Peer through frosted window

Soak it in.

Heavens ripple–

Lights undulated;

A celebratory fury

An indisputable guide.

This old house speaks;

Nature answers–

Crackles from the heavens

Sweet symphonic sounds.

Earth’s floor–

Blanketed in white

Celestial colours shimmer

Captures young eyes.

A vivid winter scene,

A sensual, sensory palette,

Reminds me–

Christ’s Mass draws near.

The photo came from Seven Wonders of Canada.

17 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Nature in All Its Glory, Poetry, Sabbath, Uncategorized and tagged Chistmas, creativity, eloquent questions, Mindful Practice, nature, poetry, teacher as transformer, winter, winter scene. Bookmark the permalink.

Medicine Wheel

Posted on November 30, 2012 by ivonprefontaine

Medicine wheels are part of many First Nations’ cultures. They serve to connect people to the environment and reflect our interdependence with nature and each other. They signal the need for balance required in our lives and ground us with and in our world. I took the picture on Bowen Island and began to write the poem.

I feel welcomed–

At home,

I found my way–

Linked to the universe,

With each being

Inseparably bound–

I could not lose my way

A voice gently beckons,

“Cross the hearth.”

Bask in its warmth–

Refresh with its water–

Breathe its sweet air–