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Showing posts from September, 2014

Autumn

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F          a                      l  l                               in                                     g in love isn't so much (falling) as paying  attention to what pulls you  t  o  w  a  r  d  s   someone else.
F     a        l l            in                 g water can echo or storm, babble and breathe quiet but either way, moving is best-- (sitting still makes for stagnant, and one can't have that.)
f          a                   l       i                     l                     n                                                   g

l                         v
          e      a                   e               
                                                 s

are turning slowly,
moving--yes--towards change,
a season of quiet
like gentle green blankets
laid out on the lawn.

I welcome the shhhhhh.....
of the leaves
and look to the day
six weeks hence--when those
same trees, barren and bare,
will leave a winter view,
unimpeded by All That Green
so I can pay
attention to what pulls
me towards falling
all
   …

What I Saw and Heard

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Writing comes from listening,
so I've taken quiet steps outside
away from the loud 
to hear better.
Eyes open this time 
to see AND hear--this--
the delicate drops of fuchsia, 
ballerinas fluttering like so many
upside-down firecrackers,
fragile, full of beauty
dropping feathery tendrils
to the silent air.

Poets at Play--an Interview with Tania Runyan

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With Tania at AWP Conference--Seattle WA      Some poets' work take your breath away or stop you in your tracks with an 'aha'! Some will challenge you to see the world a different way than before. Tania Runyan's work does all that. Of her many works, her two volumes of poetry based on Scripture prompts intrigued me the most. "Second Sky" is full of Pauline-Epistle-inspired musings,  "Thousand Vessels'" pays a powerful and provocative tribute to 12 women of the Bible.      When I found out Tania would be in Seattle last Spring for the AWP Conference (Assn. of Writers and Writing Programs), I took the day off and got a free pass to attend the poetry panel she was participating in. (say that 3 times fast).      She let me hang out and drink coffee with she and her panel mates who were delightful as well. Then we schlepped about the books, visited her publisher's table and I headed home. I contacted her a few days later about an 'interview' f…

The Day the Experts Came to School

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Some days I love being an Elementary Guest Teacher.  Some days not so much.  Today was one of those days.  
They are dissecting the stories, deciding the children should 'level'  their love of literature, as if they could explode the mystery of words and flatten it, equalize the field of flowers that are pictures, implode the language, flatline the cadence and  diagnose the wonder. They have instead rendered the reading lifeless, without oxygen, no heartbeat sucked the air out of the room and killed all the joy. The patients are barely breathing.
"Leveled" indeed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In all fairness, there ARE days where the magic happens. Here's a link to something I wrote about this summer using Tania Runyan's book "How to Read a Poem".

Revelation While Writing at the Bakery

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Scarcity says,
"I can't commit to using all this paper.
I can't write these words, they'll fill up the space.
And then what?
There will be no more words."
I just know it.

Scarcity says,
"I'm afraid,
I don't trust you
there is not enough."
Like a greedy 5 year old
at a best friend's birthday party--
There's no way there's enough
birthday cake to go around.
They're gonna run out.
"I just know it."

Want stands empty-handed
staring at the hole instead
of the donut,
missing the super-sized
abundance of it all,
the over-the-top
carb and sugar count--
why look at all that frosting!--
that is clearly more than enough
for you
for two
for all of you.

I don't want pastries
I don't need cake
I just want Jesus--and there He is,
arms outstretched, hands full of life
with everything I need to take my holes
and make them whole.

There's enough--I just know it.