Showing posts with label Naomi Shihab Nye. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Naomi Shihab Nye. Show all posts

Thursday, May 30, 2019

Naomi Shihab Nye-Themed Roundup

Welcome, it's a Naomi Shihab Nye-themed roundup at Mary Lee Hahn's blog site this week. Did you know that Naomi has been named the Young People's Poet Laureate for 2019--2021 by Poetry Foundation?  Today, I dedicate my post in honor of Naomi, the amazing poet whose soulful heart and creative talent weaves words that dig deep into emotions. 



In preparing for this post, I read Naomi Shihab's poem, Famous, many times. Its simple repetition and depth of message in the final stanza resonated with me.

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous

or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular,
but because it never forgot what it could do. 

I watched the video rendition of the poem here and then, thinking of my granddaughter who is celebrating her 2nd birthday in two weeks, I wrote.

My Grandma Wish 

I want to be famous in the eyes of a child,
who knows me by name, not because I did anything spectacular,
but because I never forget what being a grandma means. 
©CV, 2019

I used Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, Burning the Old Year, as a mentor text to write a birthday poem for my little Sierra Kathryn.




Remembering Early Years

Photos flash in chronological order.
Comments written on digital screens,
jubilant baby smiles,
rise like beach gulls,
soaring into year two.

So much of beginning life is remembered,
videos of first attempts, cherished toys.
Pink and perky milestones,
so little is a lost memory.

Where there was babyhood and suddenly isn't,
a babble of words flows, celebrates, fills the space.
I begin again witnessing wonders of grandbaby life.

Only the things I didn't do,
the moments I wasn't there,
Remind me to savor your childhood.
©CVarsalona, June 2019, Sierra Kathryn's 2nd Birthday

Now I am off to celebrate Naomi Shihab Nye-themed poetry at the Poetry Friday Roundup that Mary Lee Hahn is hosting.  


Notes:
-A previous blog post on Sierra Kathryn, is at Grandma Wishes.
-Please check out my invitation to salute spring, a creative challenge for the upcoming Spring Splendor Gallery that I posted last week. I would be delighted to have my Poetry Friday friends offer a digital inspiration on springtime. (Deadline: June 13th)

Friday, February 8, 2019

Winter Bee Surprise

It was an ordinary winter day. I walked into the kitchen to do ordinary tasks when I saw something from the corner of my eye. I could hardly believe it. Walking on the rim of my large pot was a yellow bee. Quietly, I gasped. I watched in wonder and then, quickly went into fear mode. It sounds odd but it was just seven months ago when I got a big surprise. I encountered a hive of yellow jackets in my backyard-Ouch

Fast forward to this week of professional development and I decided to feature my story to stir wonder in others. Why was a bee in my kitchen? I turned to Wonderopolis' Wonder of the Day #51


Then, I found Naomi Shihab Nye's poem, chose a strike line, and retold my story throguh a golden shovel poem.

Bees Were Better by Naomi Shihab Nye

In college, people were always breaking up.
We broke up in parking lots,
beside fountains.
Two people broke up
across a table from me
at the library.
I could not sit at that table again
though I did not know them.
I studied bees, who were able
to convey messages through dancing
and could find their ways
home to their hives
even if someone put up a blockade of sheets
and boards and wire.
Bees had radar in their wings and brains
that humans could barely understand.
I wrote a paper proclaiming
their brilliance and superiority
and revised it at a small café
featuring wooden hive-shaped honey-dippers
in silver honeypots
at every table.
Poem copyright ©2008 by Naomi Shihab Nye, “Bees Were Better,” from If Bees Are Few: A Hive of Bee Poems, Ed., James P. Lenfestey, (University of Minnesota Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Naomi Shihab Nye and the publisher.

From Strike Line:
"I studied bees, who were able
to convey messages through dancing"

To: Golden Shovel

It happened quickly, as I
Was washing dishes. I studied
Him wondering where other bees
Were hidden, those who
Knew how to attack, were
Destined to persist, and able
Enough to target me as food to
Sup on. I slowly approached to convey
My thoughts on his presence. Messages
Were sent out through
Multiple swipings as he continued dancing.
©CVarsalona, 2019


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Each Friday, I  join my poetry friends for Poetry Friday. Today, children's poet Laura Purdie Salas is the Poetry Friday Roundup host at her blog site, Writing the World for Kids


Friday, September 28, 2018

Listening to the Roaring Waves

While preparing for the unveiling of “The Art of Summering Gallery of Artistic Expressions, I  took a week-long detour to present at the National Center for Families Learning Conference in Fort Lauderdale and visit friends and family in both Bonita Springs and Palm Beach Gardens. With a "summer frame of mind", I experienced nature’s touch from cloudy skies that broke into thunderous roars of intense rainfall to exquisitely-hued sunrises and sunsets. Each day, the moon and the stars dressed in sparkling shades and the ocean roars lulled me to sleep. From one coast of southern Florida to the other, my husband and I enjoyed the Floridian sights, the presence of a still visibly strong summer season and the opportunity to continue the "art of summering" after its designated end. Needless to say, I immersed myself in the experience, collecting magical memories to reflect upon during the cold winter months.

In my post, Anticipation, I stated that the art of summering is listening to the ocean waves and wondering, such a simple act that I engaged in while in Fort Lauderdale.  Each morning and night, I heard the ocean call. On two mornings, I engaged in beach yoga before sunrise and deeply reflected on the presence of the moon, its descent, and the rising of the sun. From these experiences, I wrote a questioning poem.

Questioning Life, the Mystical Mover

How would my life have been different
if I only knew
to pause and savor quiet moments more often?

How would my life have been different
if I only knew
to view silver raindrops as day brighteners, not negatives?

How would my life have been different
if only I acted with patience
as nature slowly paraded in front of me?

How would my life have been different
if "what if" reflections
marked the beginning of the journey?

...and so now, I listen intently to the roaring waves
throwing out one question,
"How can I find balance in life to make a difference?"
©"CVarsalona, 2018

The above poem and digital inspirations are being offered to Michelle H. Barnes for her September Ditty Challenge from the inspirational poet, Naomi Shihab. We were asked to write a letter to ourself in which we asked some questions that we didn't have to answer. You can access all of the responses to the challenge at Michelle's Ditty of the Month Club September Padlet
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Before I post my poem on the padlet, I will stop at Jone Rush MacCulloch's blog site, Deo Writer: Musings to Spark the Spirit, for the Poetry Friday Roundup. 
Photograph/Logo created by Jone MacCulloch

I am dedicating this weekend to put the finishing touches on The Art of Summering Global Gallery of Artistic Expressions. Stay tuned for the unveiling announcement.