Friday, April 10, 2020

Poetry Friday -- Living is a Form of Not Being Sure



Living is a form of not being sure, 
not knowing what next or how.
The moment you know how, you begin to die a little.
The artist never entirely knows.
We guess.
We may be wrong, 
but we take leap after leap into the dark.

--Agnes de Mille


Living is a Form of Not Being Sure

There are all kinds of dark.

You close your eyes in fear, exhaustion, or prayer
and dark is there.

The sun sets, the clouds roll in, you step into shade
and dark is there.

Your mind fills with unmarked roads, closed doors, gaping chasms
and dark is there.

There are all kinds of light.

You open your eyes in hope, anticipation, or gratitude
and light is there.

The sun rises, the clouds roll on, you step into sunshine
and light is there.

Your mind takes leap after leap into the dark, guessing, risking
and light is always there.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020 (with help from Agnes de Mille)



Amy has this week's Poetry Friday Roundup at The Poem Farm.



Thursday, April 09, 2020

Now, More Than Ever




Now, More Than Ever

Breathe
in hope,
then exhale
your gratitude.
Remember these truths:
students over standards,
patience over procedures,
compassion over compliance,
care over content, and grace over
gimmicks. We must humanize our teaching.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is an etheree.  It is also a found poem, comprised of bits of a post I read on the Nextdoor app, and this tweet by Shana V. White:





Wednesday, April 08, 2020

Unbounded




unbounded by walls
my classroom fits on my lap
hello front porch


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


Tuesday, April 07, 2020

This Is Just To Say




This Is Just To Say

I am not reading
the books
that patiently wait
on my shelves

and which
I should probably
have read
by now

Forgive me
I will read again
someday
maybe today


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


My mentor texts for this poem are William Carlos Williams and Kate Messner.


Monday, April 06, 2020

When I Stepped Outside for My Early Morning Walk




When I Stepped Outside for My Early Morning Walk

I was met by the moon,
full and bright, hanging low.
Good morning, Moon, I said.
What do you know?
And Moon said, Glow.

Few will notice
fewer will care.
All the more reason to always be there
and glow.

Waxing is joyous
waning is real.
Whether a sliver or the whole wheel,
you glow.

Find some light
get in its way
reflect that light with beam or ray
and glow.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



Sunday, April 05, 2020

My Hands




My Hands

wrinkled cracked and dry
these clean clean clean clean clean hands
my gift to the world


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



This poem was inspired by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's Sharing our Notebooks video.


Saturday, April 04, 2020

On My Walk




On My Walk

On my walk
around the block
what do I see?
I see a teddy bear
looking at me!

As we go
I look below
and what do I see?
I see chalk art
looking at me!

Walk some more
and on the door
what do I see?
I see a rainbow
looking at me!

Come back home
where we're alone.
What do I see?
A hopeful heart
is looking out for me.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



Friday, April 03, 2020

The Flipside: My National Poetry Month Project for 2020




My Joy

I see
you on my screen.
Hear your voice, check your work.
But I miss the reality
of you.

Your face --
pixilated --
so close, and yet so far.
No matter the distance, you are
my joy.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is a pair of cinquains. They were written in response to Liz Garton Scanlon's prompt.

So much about the world right now is scary and uncertain. That was always true, but it is in-our-faces true now. At the same time, there are amazing acts of generosity, compassion, connectedness, and creativity that are happening because of These Unprecedented Times. For myself, for my students, for my readers, I wanted to write poems this month that remind us what's on the flipside of the scary uncertainty.

Heidi has the first Poetry Friday Roundup of National Poetry Month 2020 at her blog, my juicy little universe.


Thursday, April 02, 2020

Gratitude




Gratitude

I
give thanks
for the clouds.
Yes, the same ones
that spoiled your picnic,
that rained on your parade,
that flooded the soccer field.
I am thankful for clouds because
without them there'd be no rainbows, and
behind them there will always be blue skies.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020


This poem is an etheree, written with gratitude to Liz Garton Scanlon for her poetry prompts.



Wednesday, April 01, 2020

National Poetry Month 2020: The Flipside




The Flipside

Your fear stings like a fresh paper cut.
The flipside is brave determination to never give up.

The changes are rollercoaster fast -- disorienting, dizzying.
The flipside is the steady predictable approach of Spring.

Our connection is like the two sides of a coin:
the flipside says, whether we are together or apart, we are joined.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020