“The Peace of Wild Things”
by Wendell Berry
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the lease sound
in fear of what my life and my 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…
Read the rest of the poem here
![By Dcordero7965 at English Wikipedia (Transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons.) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons](https://readingtothecore.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/blue_heron.jpg?w=445&h=319)
My sister’s dog, Lily, loves chasing balls. During a recent visit to my sister’s, Lily’s joy and exuberance were on full display as she and my brother-in-law played ball.
Black fur blurs,
a rocket zooming across the lawn.
She leaps, her quarry captured,
then tumbles to the ground.
Sphinx-like, she waits,
guarding her ball on the sun-dappled grass,
ever eager for the next round of fetch.
© Catherine Flynn, 2016
Please be sure to visit Chelanne at Books 4 Learning for the Poetry Friday Roundup.
“The universe if full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”
Eden Phillpotts
Most mornings I can be found walking along our quiet stretch of road with our dog, Lucy. Meandering may be a more accurate description. Lucy is a beagle and has to sniff everything. (You remember the Pokey Little Puppy, right?) Sometimes it takes us half-an-hour to go less than a quarter of a mile. This used to frustrate me because I. had. things. to. do! (More about that here.) But I stopped letting it bother me ages ago. The reason? I took a cue from Lucy and started really paying attention to the action unfolding all around me.
As usual, the birds were very busy this morning. These swallows greeted us as we started off, chittering “Hello!”
Then something upset this hawk, as he erupted from his perch in the pines with an ear-piercing screech.
As we moved a little farther down the road, we came across these berries. It looks like they need another day or two to ripen, then they’ll be a perfect breakfast for the birds in the neighborhood.
Goldfinches love the thistles that grow along the old stone wall at the edge of this pasture.
When we got home, more winged friends were waiting to greet us buzzing around in the hosta.
Finally, I sat down on the front step where I have a good view of this nest, which was strangely quiet this morning. The mama bird was very busy there yesterday.
Thank you, Lucy, for making me slow down and sharpen my wits to the “magical things” that are all around.
Thank you to Stacey, Dana, Betsy, Beth, Kathleen, Deb, Melanie, and Lisa for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.
How can we make sense of yet another horrific act of senseless violence? Yesterday’s events in France have me in a state of despair. The light-hearted poem I had planned to share today now seems inappropriate. What to share instead?
As I walked my dog this morning, I was hyperaware of my surroundings, noticing traces of spider webs, ripening blackberries, and the cacophony of bird songs. Noticing the beauty of the world right in front of me. Somehow all this noticing reminded of me of this poem, which I wrote several years ago.
The Sand Beneath Our Feet
Sometimes in our busy lives,
we brush others aside
as carelessly as we brush
the sand off our feet
after a day at the beach.
But what if we stopped,
took a moment
for a closer look?
What wonders might be revealed to us?
The geologist, turning
her microscope to those few
grains of sand,
is rewarded with
an astonishing menagerie:
crystal jacks,
ivory sea urchins,
golden honeycombs,
swirls of pink cotton candy,
amber snails, spiraling ever inward.
Shaped by forces beyond our ken,
each one as different from the other
as you and I.
What pressures shaped you?
What winds and rains have buffeted you about?
What marvels have been forged
in the depths of your heart?
© Catherine Flynn, 2016
Please be sure to visit Mary Lee Hahn at A Year of Reading for the Poetry Friday Roundup.
My mind and heart are overflowing with all the passion, knowledge, and energy that was shared by the colleagues I was fortunate enough to learn with and from at the International Literacy Association Conference in Boston. I’ll be reading, digesting and thinking about the sessions for weeks to come. But while the experience is still fresh in my mind, I want to share some key take aways.
“We all have a life worth writing about.” Adora Svitak
“Give your students a little piece of sky; help them soar.” Kwame Alexander
“We get better by doing the best we can” Mark Overmeyer
“Invite students to live writerly lives.” Paula Bourque
“Play opened avenues in my brain that I didn’t know existed.” Jennifer Jacobsen
“Look for the surprises in your writing…that’s where the gold of the story is hiding.” Cynthia Lord
“Let kids know our passion for reading” Penny Kittle & Kelly Gallagher
“Books provide imaginative rehearsals for the real world.” Kelly Gallagher
“Let kids know that “what they have to say matters.” Linda Rief
“We want kids to be responsive to the characters & themselves” Bob Probst
My weekend in Boston was also filled with seeing old friends and meeting online friends in real life.
If you’ve never attended a national conference, it’s an experience you’ll never forget. Thank you, ILA, for a wonderful weekend!
Thank you to Stacey, Dana, Betsy, Beth, Kathleen, Deb, Melanie, and Lisa for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.
Summer. Thoughts turn to mornings of clearing away the clutter of a busy school year and lazy afternoons with a book, days at the beach, adventures near and far. But most of all, TIME to write! It’s been a slow transition for me this year, though, as I’ve been writing curriculum and taking care of other work obligations that seem to have no end. I’ve been de-cluttering like mad, but my writing has come in fits and starts and feels stale and stilted. The best remedy for this? Read poetry, of course!
So I revisited one of my favorite anthologies from the past few years, Firefly July (Candlewick Press, 2014). This entire collection, selected by Paul B. Janeczko and brilliantly illustrated by Melissa Sweet, radiates joy. On every page, poets surprise and delight with perfect images and metaphors. “A Happy Meeting”, by Joyce Sidman, is just one example.
Joyce’s poetry always gives me a jump start, and I remembered she has a new book coming out, so I went searching for more about that. As you may know, Before Morning, with illustrations by Beth Krommes, will be published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt in the fall. And although I didn’t find too much about that book, I did find this interview, from 2010, with Julie Danielson at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast.
At the very bottom of the page, this treasure is waiting:
“How to Find a Poem”
by Joyce Sidman
Wake with a dream-filled head.
Stumble out into the morning,
barely aware of how the sun
is laying down strips of silver
after three days’ rain,
of how the puddles
are singing with green.
Read the rest of the poem here.
Wishing you all sweet, dream-filled summer days! Please be sure to visit Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference for the Poetry Friday Roundup.
“Wisdom Begins in Wonder”
Socrates
These words are as true today as they were 2500 years ago. I may have heard or read them before, but I was happy to see them painted on the wall of the “Cabinet of Art and Curiosity” installation at the Wadsworth Atheneum in Hartford yesterday. I was there to participate in the museum’s “Summer STEAM” workshop, designed to show teachers “the many ways art can enhance science, technology, engineering, and math” in their classrooms.
Lisa Delissio, a STEM Faculty Fellow at Salem State University, began the day with a talk about the intersection of art and science. She explained that the “perspective and knowledge of artists is essential to scientific approaches to problems.” Specifically, she listed the observational skills artists bring to their work that have been found to have an impact on the skills of her biology students. These include:
Dr. Delissio then showed us this image:
![By Prosthetic Head (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons](https://readingtothecore.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/cape_skink_flowers.jpg?w=360&h=299)
She asked us to use the observational skills of an artist and the perspective of a biologist to respond to the image with word and/or pictures. My sketch was very rudimentary, but my jottings were very much dominated by my poetry brain. I was immediately drawn to the stamens of the large flower in the foreground, which reminded me of sunspots exploding on the sun and the flower in the bottom center waiting to bloom. To me, its folded petals looked like hands folded in prayer.
We were given ten minutes to work on this, which sounds like a long time. But it really wasn’t. I could have easily spent another half hour working on my observations and the poem I was beginning to formulate. Keeping the STEAM theme of the day in mind, I started a Fib poem, a poem which uses the Fibonacci sequence to determine the number of syllables in each line.
Fat
skink
rests on
bright purple
aster petals, their
stamens exploding like the sun.
The auditorium full of dozens of teachers was absolutely still as people worked. But it didn’t feel like work at all. We were completely engaged in our creativity, our intellectual curiosity sparked by the blending of diverse disciplines. As Dr. Delissio explained, students who pursue double majors in science and the arts are more creative, and exhibit more intellectual curiosity and divergent thinking than students with a single major.
Attending this workshop was a joy for me, not because I needed convincing that the arts should be included in STEM, but because it bolstered my belief in the importance of including the arts in our classrooms. As schools across the country embrace STEM and devote time and resources to integrate STEM into the curriculum, we have to ensure that the arts are always included. As Anne Jolly points out in a recent Education Week article, “The purpose of STEAM should not be so much to teach art but to apply art in real situations. Applied knowledge leads to deeper learning.”
Thank you to Stacey, Dana, Betsy, Beth, Kathleen, Deb, Melanie, and Lisa for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.
Sometimes when we read a poem there’s an instant connection between us and the poet. Someone we’ve never met, maybe even never heard of, has managed a magical transformation of words into phrases into stanzas that reach into our heart, like the first rays of sunlight bathing the tips of tree branches in its yellow glow. In that moment we know we’ve found a treasure worth keeping.
In her poem “Wish”, Linda Sue Park captures this process perfectly:
Wish
by Linda Sue Park
For someone to read a poem
again, and again, and then,
having lifted it from page
to brain– the easy part—
cradle it on the longer trek
from brain all the way to heart.
From Tap Dancing on the Roof; Sijo Poems (Clarion, 2007)
Not every poem we read, and certainly not every poem we write, makes that journey. And yet, we soldier on. We keep reading, we keep writing, because, as Katherine Bomer reminds us, “the journey is everything.”
When I first read this poem by Robert Haas, I knew I’d found a treasure that made that journey.
“Stanzas for a Sierra Morning”
by Robert Haas
Looking for wildflowers, the white yarrow
With its deep roots for this dry place
And fireweed which likes disturbed ground.
There were lots of them, bright white yarrow
And the fireweed was the brilliant magenta
Some women put on their lips for summer evenings.
The water of the creek ran clear over creekstones
And a pair of dove-white plovers fished the rills
A sandbar made in one of the turnings of the creek.
You couldn’t have bought the sky’s blue.
Read the rest of the poem here.
Please be sure to visit Diane Mayr at Random Noodling for the Poetry Friday Roundup.
“A Bale of Turtles”
After months of hibernation
buried in the mud and muck,
a bale of turtles emerge
into a world of glimmering green.
Heads raised high in jubilation,
they bask in the glittering sunshine,
silent and still,
chasing away winter’s chill.
© Catherine Flynn, 2016
I took this picture at the end of April at a pond near my house. Since then, I’ve been working on this poem, trying to find just the right form, words, and phrases. During that time, I’ve felt like I’ve been buried in the mud and muck of school busyness, which has drained my writing energy. Now that school is over, I decided to revisit these happy turtles, and emerge into the sunshine with them.
Please be sure to visit Carol at Carol’s Corner for the Poetry Friday Roundup!
“Compassion is not religious business, it is human business, it is not luxury, it is essential for our own peace and mental stability, it is essential for human survival.”
~ Dalai Lama XIV ~
I noticed this sign on the edge of the road as I was driving to work. And it did make me slow down. I noticed its counterpart on the other side of the road on my way home that afternoon. Even though there was no sign of the fawn or its mother, I was thankful for this reminder.
I thought of this sign over the weekend when I was at dinner with my family. It was a beautiful summer evening, and we were eating on the sidewalk terrace of a busy restaurant. Suddenly, a woman was sprawled on the sidewalk.
Her toddler had wriggled away from her (they are slippery little things!) and she tripped while running after him. Her hands were scraped and she split her lip, which was bleeding profusely. I ran into the restaurant to get napkins, and someone else got her a glass of water. She was more startled than injured, and after a few minutes those of us who had helped her returned to our dinners.
Helping this woman wasn’t something I thought about. I just did it. Over the past year, my family, like far too many families, has been coping with a sudden loss. We have been overwhelmed by the many kindnesses, large and small, often from total strangers, shared with us during this time. How could I not extend my hand to this woman?
Since Sunday’s horrific news from Orlando, I’ve felt dismay and revulsion at some of the rhetoric being bandied about so carelessly. But I’ve also been heartened by the countless selfless acts of kindness, from women passing out carnations to the families of the victims to the hundreds of people lined up to give blood. This outpouring of sympathy and solidarity from all corners of the world gives me hope. Hope that we can rise above fear and hate. Hope that we can all find the compassion within ourselves to slow down, extend a hand, and treat others with care. Hope that love will prevail.
Thank you to Stacey, Dana, Betsy, Beth, Kathleen, Deb, Melanie, and Lisa for this space for teachers and others to share their stories each Tuesday. Be sure to visit Two Writing Teachers to read more Slice of Life posts.
Reading to the Core 
