beneath a blanket of oppression, Parmatma toils—thirsting
cupped hands bring shiny offerings; jars of hope overflow
under the same sun, young minds seek wisdom, opportunity...

a sijo

Each year, our elementary building holds Pillar Pride Week in which students and staff focus on the six pillars of character (trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring and citizenship). Throughout the week, students bring in donations for a worthy cause. I was delighted this year, when our building chose to support one of my favorite charities—Heifer International.

Parmatma is an eight-year-old boy residing in an impoverished village in India. The gift of a water buffalo has enabled his family to earn money by selling its milk, and as a result, Parmatma is now able to attend school. A female calf, recently born to the water buffalo, will be given to another family in need when it matures. That family in turn, will pass along a female offspring to another family and so on — The gift is perpetual.

Please take a moment to learn more about this wonderful organization and consider donating your own gift.

http://www.heifer.org/site/c.edJRKQNiFiG/b.204586/k.9430/Gift_Catalog.htm?m...
 

Here is the original text: from Maya Angelou's Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now...

Some people who exist sparingly on the mean side of the hill are threatened by those who also live in the shadows but who celebrate the light.

It seems easier to lie prone than to press against the law of gravity and raise the body onto its feet and persist in remaining vertical.

There are many incidents which can eviscerate the stalwart and bring the mighty down. In order to survive, the ample soul needs refreshments and reminders daily of its right to be and to be wherever it finds itself. (91 words)

...and the verse:



meagerly, they exist.
amongst the shadows—all hunger;
but some—
like a mangy stray
begging for scraps—
fear the light and its warmth;
threatened
by those who dare
to bask in its glow.

for the defeated
it is less burdensome
to lie prone—death
preceding life—
than to press
against gravity's law;
erect and withstanding,
like the resolute oak.

menacing hailstorms
eviscerate the stalwart
and fell the mighty; but
the ample soul—
determinate and sustaining—
restores its courage;
persuaded of its right to be—
and to be wherever
it finds itself.
 

I don't have to spell it out for you, but you'd recognize the letters if I did: W-A-L-K. Lacing up my New Balance walkers can only mean one thing and you dance in anticipation. Chugging along determinedly, you huff and claws clack — a furry black locomotive; Only, trains don't zig-zag on rusty tracks. Sniffing anxiously, it's not the fragrant aroma of white pines you seek, but the curious scent of another. Canine tails wag in greeting — one a tiny stub, the other a wispy curlicue. Weaving back and forth, you make your mark on the world. "NOT THERE!" The gentle hands that tend this garden would not appreciate it being reduced to a public outhouse. I didn't notice the cottontail camouflaged amidst the clover, but very little escapes your keen nose and you give chase; My shoulder burns and I scold, but liquid brown eyes melt my heart. Gradually, your gait decelerates and you pay no heed to chattering squirrels in maple trees. Chickadees scatter — their bathing ritual disrupted — and you lap up remnants of the weekend's rain. As we approach the doorstep, a feline friend awaits and suddenly, you get your second wind.


Roscoe and I just returned from our morning stroll; At some point, I'll write a poem.
 

Recently, I've enjoyed participating in poetic challenges presented by friends here on WdC. Belonging to a community of writers has several merits. We can encourage, challenge and learn from one another. We can offer and receive constructive criticism and ultimately, develop and grow in many different directions.

Our friend, Kåre Enga en Costa Rica has inspired me, through his observations and insight, to slow down and take notice of the world around me. There is wonder and significance in even the smallest things and so, in poet laureate form, I took notes during my stroll this morning. Anyone reading this is free to select a prompt and go with it. There are no deadlines or demands. I'm just anxious to see what you come up with.



Observations from a Saturday Morning Stroll


magenta and yellow daylillies, haggard and mostly spent

a concrete urn overflowing with red and white peppermint petunias

a gaggle of Canadian geese grazing on the library lawn - oblivious to the barn swallow circling them

"God light" pouring through the clouds

raindrops like pin pricks against my skin

a black beetle scurrying for cover from the rain

white ~ daisy fleabane and queen anne's lace

gold ~ black-eyed susans, rough stemmed goldenrod

red and ivory clover

cat-tails, bull thistle and milkweed

shades of violet ~ great blue lobelia and pale purple coneflowers

a downy woodpecker on swaying purple prairie clover

dandelions gone to seed

a subtle scent of pine after the rain

prairie grasses ~ foxtail barley, knotroot bristlegrass, smooth brome, cheatgrass, smooth crabgrass and nodding foxtail

a solitary vine reaching out through faded, gray cedar fence planks

a black locust tree with delicate fern-like leaves, its trunk covered in menacing thorns

a tangerine Harley Davidson with Alabama plates

a 1960 pink Cadillac convertible with a worn white top
 

a benevolent, gentle man,
he is the virtuoso of expression
and a maestro of melody

awakening listless souls
dreams flow, gently cascading,
like glacial thaws in springtime

I laud the troubadour's quill



         attitude en pointe
         sprinkling rose ribbons of stardust
         a stellar beauty dances amidst constellations

         ascending Franciscan hills
         sharing songs of hope and healing
         she strides beside her sisters

         in remembrance and celebration, a supernova inspires others


dot com friends and confidantes
weigh observations and opinions,
keyboards clacking until wee morning hours

lunch for two by the river in June
a meeting of hearts and minds
both knew, it was love at first laugh

best friends and soulmates for life


         young moms in a foreign land
         parallel lives - sharing laughter and strife
         forming bonds to last a lifetime

         adamant women in transition
         our best laid plans, rearranged
         when he came and stole your heart

         some things change, but two friends are better than one


his nature is nurtured by strolls in Missoula
sketching folks and refuse, so easily discarded
recognition is scrawled in spiral journals

an egnimatic shadow conceals a genuine smile
plucked, but still vibrant, like blossoms
delicately placed in sun bathed windows

a sensitive soul finds acceptance here



         his gift melts her heart
         like blue crayolas in sunlight
         red roses hang their heads in resignation

         a Mississippi belle, as sweet as tea
         Pennsylvania hills and love beckon
         a bottle of sand unites two families

         never have I heard a more tender love story


busy as a bee, she's gone
boating with Big Pam and the gals
it's her party and she'll drink if she wants to!

she feels just ducky in her velvet crown
cajoling and laughing with consorts
time flies when you're having fun

a toast to da Queen on her burpday

Thanks to alfred booth, wanbli ska for the challenge, encouragement and my lovely poetry badge.
 

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brats grillin'
friends chillin'
sippin' Mike's
Lemonade®
bongos drum
guitars strum
campers hum
serenade

mallows roast
tales of ghosts
cool night to
remember
grown men scared
moments shared
one impaired
September


a snàmh suad, for Catherine

octaves - each line consisting of 3 syllables in an aabcdddc pattern
L4 and L8 must be 3-syllable words