In Honor of My Father


The Nap

He lays on his back on the cold, hard, blue linoleum floor after

the midday dinner of homegrown roast beef, potatoes, wilted

lettuce salad, hot coffee, coconut topped cake.  His left arm

forms a right angle at the elbow as the back of his wrist rests

on his forehead, touching the slight curliness of his not quite

black hair.  His left leg stretched out straight, right one drawn

up, knee jutting out.  The sleeves of his worn, pale blue dress

shirt rolled up; his overalls show signs of wear and washing.

Every day after dinner he naps in the same spot in this same

position for exactly fifteen minutes before returning to the field.

 

My father.

 

Seventeen years after his death, one day as I napped, slowly

driving off, astonishment stuck.  There I lay exactly as my

father used to so many years ago, my left arm forming a right

angle, wrist on my forehead, left leg stretched out straight, right

one drawn up, knee jutting out.  I remember not just in heart

and mind.

 

The body always knows.

 

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Taken at the top of Mt. Evans in Colorado when I was a child.

 

 

Desert


Give me the long view

the endless space,

let my bones gleam white

beneath a desert willow

where a diamondback seeks shade.

 

Let me walk through red rock, climb to eternity,

stretch arms into the azure, crystalline air,

laugh out loud.

 

Give me the long view,

let me laugh out loud,

look down the Kaibab

Plateau into eternity.

 

Let me sing songs to emptiness,

to stark, open, free,

dance in sun, moonlight,

laugh out loud.

 

Give me the long view.

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Student Poems-Three


Three poems follow:

Nature

Nature is

a beautiful place

so start

kicking that

can all over

the place

we will

we will

rock

you

Ethan Singletary

 

As I am laying at home

I hear a loud thunderous noise

The sound startled me out of my seat

I looked out the window

There was a giant funnel

I heard the tornado siren

As the trees were coming out of ground

I run downstairs to take cover

The storm was ruling the land, but

I was safe from the natural catastrophe.

Makenna Byrd

 

The Grip

As the wind blows and the storm flows through this

Desolate wasteland

As you wonder the numbing thunder puts you at peace

As the wind whips and the storm grips the desolate ground

As it whirls and twirls bringing wreckage

to the sky

Someone brings a tractor to clean up

this decay

For this storm may bring sorrow but all through

the hollow the great sorrow is met with a great

peace

As the family sifts among the rubble and

finds on this trouble at least they are in

one piece

Corbin McKinney

 

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Student Poems-Two


Here is the next set:

 

The Beauty of Nature

 

Nature is everywhere

It teaches you how to share,

God created nature

With beauty you can always capture,

Without it there will be no peace

Everywhere will soon cease,

Nature includes some of the biggest animals

Like the awesome looking camel,

Nature has everything from Willow Trees

All the way down to bumblebees,

Nature is everywhere.

 

Jaci Allen

 

life vs. nature

 

spring, summer

winter, fall

these are the seasons of the year

nature’s crazy

nature’s fun

nature has something for everyone

it can be scary

not so sweet

life’s like nature scary and fun

when times are tough rivers run

we may cry laugh and smile

life’s emotions drive me wild

 

Jordin Arnaud

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Student Poems–One


After reading nature poems by Denise Levertov and Wendell Berry, the students wrote their own nature poems.  Ten wanted me to post their poems on my blog,  As as consequence, I will post two student poems each day.  Here is the first set.

 

In late fall evening

There are leaves falling

and they are crunching

under your feet

as the birds fight

for the tree with the

most leaves My family

watches football in

the warm cozy house

of ours.

 

Trey Matthews.

 

 

Nature is beautiful

and helps you see,

the wild is suitable

for you and me.

Nature helps you grow

in strength and mindset,

and helps you realize

your true assets.

Look around and see

the beautiful world God made for me.

 

Bailee McAlister

 

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The World in One Room


 

Four jaguar heads stare at me,

Mexican, Costa Rican.

A third guards the mantel,

partially hidden in tropical plants,

attack ready, tail raised, jaws open,

teeth bared.

 

My feet rest on a coffee table

carved in Kashmir.  I look at the photo

of the young man whose family made it.

He took me home to meet his mom,

to the floating market.

Once peace reigned there.

Now I wonder if he is safe, alive.

 

The Hoop Dancer raises his arms,

the Acoma pot exudes ancient

black on white beauty, painted

by the tips of yucca stems.

The Thai Spirit House begs

to appease evil spirits.

I should put food and flowers there;

I never do.

 

Corn plant of life–for Navaho, Hopi,

me, painted, growing up my wall,

blue and red birds flitting through

the stalks, singing ancient songs.

Corn Maiden rug hanging on the wall;

an Isleta Pueblo girl won a contest

with its design.  Four Corn Maiden

Kachinas watch the room.

Corn everywhere–Sacred Corn.

 

Three Ethiopian crosses, St. George

and the Dragon, Frida Kahlo doll,

Argentinian Madonna, Tohono O’odham

baskets, a painted cow skull, Nigerian carved

wooden elephants, including a Chieftains chair,

the stained glass transom window from the house

where my dad lived from birth to ten.

 

In a room filled with windows, there

is little room for paintings, yet–

purple bison glide across the prairie,

an Iraqi woman flies through an azure

sky filled with dark blue birds,

a 15th century mystic, Kabir, tells

a tale in poetry, Navaho spirits,

pumas walking toward me–

my obsession.

 

Rugs scattered–Kerman,

an unknown Persian city, Afghani,

Egyptian, Indian, Zapotec, scraps of old

Turkish rugs sewn together.

 

In one cabinet, Grandmother’s china,

Mom’s Czech crystal–a wedding present

decades ago, Grandson’s painted art,

the silverware Dad gave Mom on their

first wedding anniversary,  Mom’s

everyday dishes–flowers blooming.

I use them every day.

 

These objects–a testament to who I am:

World wanderer, seeker, citizen.

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What’s in a Name?


Juliana!

Internet tells me I am Jove’s child.

I’m a goddess??!!

Where I grew up, no one had

my name.

The Queen of Holland had my name.

I wondered why?  A Spanish name.

Research explained:

Holland once ruled Spain.

It did not go well.

 

Juliana!

Internet tells me I am

Aspirational

Benevolent

Honest

Inventive

Original

Is this true?

Maybe. Probably.

Does a name create who

one becomes?

If I had a different name

would I be someone else?

 

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Note:  This poem came out of an assignment in a class I am taking with the Story Circle Network, an organization that promotes women writing and telling their stories.   The instructor, Yesim Cimcoz, lives in Turkey.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Italy–Sirens’ Song


As we drove along the Amalfi Coast, the guide told us the mythological story of the Sirens.  My daughter took a photo out the window of the Sirens’ islands.

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Later I wrote this poem remembering the travails of Odysseus.

 

The melodious Sirens’ song

lured Odysseus

begging to be untied from

the mast.

Even the roaring sea’s

voice whispered in

comparison.

They sang honeyed

love songs to starving

sailors, longing for a woman’s

touch, a kiss, ecstasy.

With knife claws, they

ripped them asunder,

crunching bones, blood

erupting.

Satiated, they sang,

eternal, etherial, deceptive.

 

 

Several days later at a shop in Sorrento, while my daughter was looking for a medusa cameo, the owner, a cameo artist, brought out Siren cameos.  He insisted the Siren’s have been terribly misunderstood.  I wanted clarification but unfortunately other customers appeared and I remain mystified.

Thanksgiving


An icy morning awaited me when I awoke.  A slippery slope up to the barn to feed the horses.

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Ice covered branches above the kitchen sink window.

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Ice and fog looking up the canyon.  Yet I think of  everything for which I am thankful:

 

A life filled with adventure

Friends and family worldwide

A job I love

My students

Music and dancing

Good health

Natural beauty surrounding me

Cooking and celebrating life with friends and family

Oh, the list is endless!!

 

 

Wishing all of you a joyful day filled with gratitude.