Tag Archives: poetry

Art and Haiku

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.

Bird 2

winged clouds above

contrasted against blueness

majestic in flight

Cosmos 2

Brilliant colour

Emerges from black richness

Ever expanding

Tolerance and Flexibility

Despite the weather, we had a great day. Many students do not attend Fridays. In past years, we attended every second Monday. Our administration changed that this year without consulting parents or me. I struggled with it for several months and made a dramatic shift a couple of months ago. I decided to devote Fridays to art i.e. drawing, painting, and building. I am not an artist in that sense, but was able to get access to resources from a friend who is an artist and an excellent teacher. The students enjoy the change. We built kites today and I felt a positive and life-giving energy in the room. I thought of this poem by Lao Tzu.

Living humans are soft and limber.

Dead they are hard and rigid.

Living, the 10, 000 grasses and wood species are soft and crisp.

So “hard” and “rigid” accompany death.

“Soft” and “limber” accompany life.

So if armies are coercive, they do not triumph.

When wood is strong, the axe comes out.

Strength and dominance reside below.

The soft and limber belong higher.

Each a Poet

We are each creative in our own personal and unique manner. It requires a mindful, contemplative approach to life to allow us to see ourselves as the poets, authors, and artists of our lives. It is in those gaps between the stimulus or gift we receive and the response or offerings we return to the world. The world and universe surround and envelope us in its richness. We pause and realize our world, its gifts, and our opportunities. It is in those pauses we refresh and create.

We journey

We occasionally pause

Muse a moment…

Soak in the world…

In so many ways;

Our hearts touched.

Its sounds–

A luxuriant symphonic backdrop;

A barely audible sigh;

Scarcely heard

Always there

A gentle pulse.

Its sensual touch–

Soft caresses…

A tender lover

It embraces

Wraps us in its arms

A safe place.

Its smells

Drift on a breeze

A rare restaurant

A delectable menu

Its richness

Appetites soothed.

Its sights

Visually adorn nature’s wall

Blend colours and materials

Masterpieces hung

Set upon the mantle

Shaped from nature’s gifts.

The world expresses itself;

Not in words

Yet, as a poem

We are each poets

Served and serving

We craft a life.

Ode to a Bookstore

Kathy and I escaped Phoenix relatively unscathed. We love bookstores and on several occasions we bought extra suitcases to carry trophies home.

Despite escaping relatively unscathed, there was still a close call and it found its way into a poem.

There it sat

I had sensed it

Even heard it call my name

Oh so furtively and seductively.

There it was

I knew it was close by

It sat in the back corner

A harsh piece of asphalt

Yet, so compelling and inviting.

I hurried

Some might even say I scurried

But, I heard a cautionary voice

Some might even say threatening

“You only get one!”

“That is your allowance!”

I entered that sanctuary

That quiet, hallowed place

Ah, a bookstore

Not just some Internet siren

It was a real live bookstore

What a treat!

Creativity

I am grateful for the comments I received. The link to the radio show is not working today.  I made minor changes, but still did not get through. I will work on this and see what I can do to correct the problem.

I believe the Internet is a place to build community, enhance conversations, and create relationships previously impossible. I think it requires a mindful approach, and serial single tasking to do this, but it is doable. There are creative spaces in any community that makes all this possible.

A pause,

A whisper,

A gentle voice,

In that gap–

Mindful response to stimulus.

The gap grows–

A mindfully tended space

Nourished and fed,

Attended, become aware

Sow with care.

Blossoms ready themselves–

Creativity appears at the door

Heartfelt listening

There senses merge into one

Receive that gentle lady.

She is a visitor–

Long awaited;

Not chased after–

In that spaciousness

There creativity wraps me in her arms.

Thank You, A Simple Word

Yesterday, was a great day. We hung out, but, when I checked email, I found one that made my day. I submitted an article for publication several months ago and received notification yesterday it is going to be published. I am not sure of details such as the when, but, because it is peer-reviewed, it is important for my scholarly journey.

Yesterday, a radio interview I did several months ago as part of a series about servant-leadership, mindfulness, and their potential in education was broadcast. The interview is at Blog Radio. It is long, so do not feel obligated.

Sylvia Chidi wrote this poem about a word I occasionally forget to use, thank you. She described it as “a simple word that feels new.” When I wrote the article, it was a particularly difficult process, but many encouraged me and more will I am sure as I move forward. Kathy was essential to the process. She edits my work, but the article was in such disarray, I had to use a professional editor for the first time. Those advising me kept telling me I needed a softer voice in the article. I was not happy with all that, but the feedback received from the reviewers suggests a softer voice and professional help worked. I am grateful and it moves me along the road.

For all those who have encouraged me and those who are yet to.

Thank you, Thank you
A simple word that still feels new

All I want to hear from you is
Thank you, Thank you
Thank you for been so true
Thank you for kindness
Thank you for your love
Thank you for friendship
Thank you for loyalty
Thank you for humour
Thank you for ideas
Thank you for showing care

All I want to say to you is
Thank you, Thank you
A simple word that still feels new

Thank you for reading my works
Thank you for your encouragement
Thank you for your comments
Thank you for showing excitement
Thank you for your strength
Thank you for your votes
Thank you for influencing my growth
Thank you for been there in the morning
Thank you for been there at night
Thank you for believing in me.

The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm

I slowed down since we arrived in Phoenix. I feel like this when I travel to Spokane. It takes a few days, but eventually I move slower, take time to look around, and smell the proverbial roses.

I read Nicholas Carr‘s The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to our Brains and found unexpected inspiration. I chose the book as part of the course and dissertation preparation. Carr used poetry to support some of his ideas. He included Wallace Stevens’ poem about immersing one’s self into reading, the solitude found there, and the world that emerges. The author speaks to me as I find calm and solitude.

People commented on the re-blog, Solitude, about a concern for children and an inability to disconnect from digital technologies. I agree and it is partly what motivates me in my dissertation path. Where I teach and learn, I see readers. It is a pastime supported by many families and embraced by many children. Many families limit technology use and television viewing in their homes. Many students play musical instruments, join choirs, and enjoy the arts. It is a concern, but there are examples of children and families mindfully using technology.

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night

Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,

Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.

The world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

The Journey

I am not sure what my schedule is like for the rest of the afternoon, so I will post earlier than I normally do. I read quite a bit yesterday and one of the books I finished was by a friend, Deb E. Berg and is called Ja-Mya and the Journey. I taught two members of the Berg family and Deb was a founding member of our small school. Much of the underlying philosophy that led to this group of parents approaching educators with their idea of a different way of imagining a school and children’s learning is reflected in this book.

The book weaves story-telling reminiscent of classics such as The Chronicles of Narnia, Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz, and many others. The two main characters, Teagen and Andrew, search for life’s meaning as two adolescents who embark on their summer vacation with their uncle. They search for their Heart’s Desire, explore deep and timeless questions adolescents ask, and enter a fourth dimension where time is not as we understand it. They witness two opposing worldviews: one of abundance and stewardship; the other of scarcity and depletion. They learn their greatest strengths are often their greatest weaknesses. The reader embarks on a journey with Teagen and Andrew as they learn about nature, connect to a new world through their imagination, and find wisdom. In a single afternoon, Andrew “fought a war, rode a dragon, wrote and performed a song while learning about my Heart’s desire.”

This book is about finding and integrating the contemporary with the traditional. It is about a real need to see legacy not through the eyes of adults, but through the eyes of children. What world do we choose to leave for them? What is our gift to them?

I leave you with the song Andrew wrote and performed at the end of the book:

Life begins, life ends,

Struggles come and go

What the Journey holds for each

Is something we cannot know.

Friends along the way,

Providing what we need

In companionship and wisdom

With varied type of deed.

One’s Heart’s Desire can only be found

When walking the road of life

No matter what we find it is

The awareness will bring less strife.

Emotion also finds its place

Along the Journey’s way

With welcoming and firm embrace

Wisdom will guide today.

Value, meaning, the hope of life

Shows in the time we take

To listen to a kinder voice

Love’s words to never forsake.

Life begins, life ends,

Struggles come and go

What the Journey holds for each

Is something we cannot know.

I would love to use this book in the form of a novel study or a reading project with junior high students.

Fluent

Kathy and I made it to Phoenix, but it was quite a day. The flight was delayed for four hours due to mechanical problems. Considering the alternative, I am grateful, but it made for an incredibly long day including a time change. I leave you with a short, poignant John O’Donohue poem which echoes Life is a River.

I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.
It was a day full of surprise. I look forward to my weekly digital sabbatical and the unfolding that I will witness.

Life is a River

Kathy and I head to Phoenix tomorrow. The contrast in weather is sharp. It is -60 C with lots of snow here and +280 C in Phoenix, but apparently they are ‘suffering’ through a heat wave. I considered a poem about a phoenix rising from ashes, but opted for one that percolated for a while.

I began to think about this topic as we wrote life metaphors. There is no shortage of ways of seeing life, but a constant theme, for me, is a journey. I voyage into the unknown, but I still see what slowly disappears around river bends or as the river drops. There is no preset map, but it is the letting go of certainty that I welcome.

A journey from headwaters

Self-discovery;

Always seek the hidden

Evident truths.

Turbulent rapids

Still waters;

A visible contrast

An invisible path.

Fight the currents

Chaos gives way;

Languish in mysterious pools–

Life`s depth revealed.

New, unknown shorelines–

Welcome them;

Familiar sights fade, yet remain;

Both are navigational instruments.

Safe passage

Without false certainty;

Sets life`s course–

The course of a life well-lived.