Poetry Circle

I've always been fond of poetry. I don't often seek it out, but I do enjoy it when I chance upon it. I've even been known to write a few lines now and then. (Anyone remember "On My Island: A Poem of Philosophy Written Before the Exam"?)

Nature Poetry has caught my interest of late. Nature poetry is simply - poems about nature! - as the name implies. The poems don't have to be "about" nature, exactly. They must have thematic elements or imagery related to nature though, in order to be considered part of the genre.

Robert Frost, Emily Dickinson, William Wordsworth, and S. T. Coleridge are some great names in poetry that have added significantly to the body of nature poetry. I'm not aware of any poets that write nature poetry exclusively, but I'm sure there are some.

The following poem charmed me with its humorous sentiments and wisdom, and its references to mythology and ancient philosophy.

THE GRASSHOPPER
by: Anacreon (c.572-488 BC)
HAPPY insect! what can be
In happiness compar'd to thee?
Fed with nourishment divine,
The dewy morning's gentle wine!
Nature waits upon thee still,
And thy verdant cup does fill;
'Tis filled wherever thou dost tread,
Nature self's thy Ganymede.
Thou dost drink, and dance, and sing;
Happier than the happiest king!
All the fields which thou dost see,
All the plants belong to thee;
All that summer hours produce;
Fertile made with early juice.
Man for thee does sow and plow;
Farmer he, and landlord thou!
Thou dost innocently joy;
Nor does thy luxury destroy;
The shepherd gladly heareth thee,
More harmonious than he.
Thee country-hinds with gladness hear,
Prophet of the ripen'd year!
Thee Phoebus loves, and does inspire;
Phoebus is himself thy sire.
To thee, of all things upon earth,
Life's no longer than thy mirth.
Happy insect, happy, thou
Dost neither age nor winter know;
But, when thou'st drunk, and danc'd and sung
Thy fill, the flowery leaves among,
(Voluptuous and wise withal,
Epicurean animal!)--
Sated with thy summer feast,
Thou retir'st to endless rest.

TRANSLATED BY ABRAHAM COWLEY (1618-1667)

The next one is unpretentious, yet poignant and somewhat bitter. It is written by a Native American.

On earth as it is in heaven
by: Laura Martin-Bühler, (winter 1995)
Love is giving
Mother Earth gives all
Every sparrow’s song
Every waterfall.
No payment owing
On pink sunrise lights
No government loans
On desert moon nights.
Love is feeling –
Gratitude for all
Every mountain height
Every baying call.
No mortgages
On cedar trees and sand
Money is a game
Invented by a man.
Assets are acquired
Toys bought and sold
Useless possessions
Collateral cold.
Bondage of spirit
In gold we trust.
Cemented in servitude
Dreams turn to dust
God’s presence felt
In nature’s pure heart
Every creation
Unspeakable art.
Every white snowflake
Rainbow or rock
Emanates love and
A key to life’s lock.

This last one touches me on a deeper level even than the previous samples:

The Circus in the Trees
by: Andrew Hudgins
I love to watch the gray squirrels leap
from limb to leafy limb,
tumbling like furry acrobats –
and every tree their gym.

The oak limbs are their trampoline,
and their trapeze the pines.
They stroll like tightrope walkers, up
the looping power lines –

and sometimes they gnaw through a line,
exploding as it arcs,
and lighting up the evening sky,
cascading down as sparks.

Copyright © 2004 by Shenandoah:
The Washington and Lee University Review
Volume 54, Number 1 Spring/Summer 2004

Oh! That one gets me right. here. I have to stop writing now. I’m getting emotional.

pride and the game of kings

Shortly after Michelle and I got married, I tried to teach her to play chess. It was a frustrating and short-lived endeavor. We were both highly competetive. Being an intermediate player, I had a strong advantage, and it was tough for Michelle to remain enthusiastic about a game she couldn't win. Moreover, there always seemed to be some activity or other that would take precedence. (We were newlyweds - need I say more?)

I bought Michelle an electronic chess set, thinking that she might be more likely to overcome that beginner's learning curve if she didn't have to endure the humiliation of losing to a human foe. The gift was well-meant - but alas! - it remained in the box untouched, until I wanted a real chess challenge one day and played a few games on it myself.

That was eight or nine years ago. Since then, we have spent our time on ... other hobbies. Like having three kids. (In case anyone gets the wrong impression of Michelle, I will tell you this: we are quite well-matched when it comes to other games, like Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit.)

Now my oldest child is playing chess. She was four when she first spied my book-sized folding set - a gift from my dad when I was thirteen or fourteen. She was thoroughly fascinated when I introduced her to the different pieces and some of the basic rules. The two of us lacked the patience for any in-depth learning to take place - our games consisted mostly of make-pretend, and using the pieces as little dolls. The seeds had been planted, though.

A few months ago, while we were living with my in-laws, Havilah's cousin Kathleen taught Havilah some more, and Havilah was receptive. She learned much about how the pieces move.

Since then, we have been playing, more and more. Havilah now knows how all the pieces move, how they capture other pieces, and some rudimentary defense strategy. She knows what "check" means, and she will sit and contemplate different ways of getting out of check. She enjoys it so much she asks me to play every night now.

Now, here's the climax of the story, the real funny part - have you guessed it? That's right, Havilah has been pressing Mommy to play chess with her. Recently, she has begun teaching Michelle how the pieces move. This evening, my heart warmed to see an historic battle take place on the floor of my living room. Did I mention that Havilah is six years old?

And - significantly - Simcha set up the pieces.

no career for you today. back to the end of the line!

Just in case you all were wondering, The Teach for America thing didn't work out for me.

Had I gone to the interview, I have no doubt whatsoever that they would have found a teaching position for me. The more I learned about what the commitment entailed, I felt it wasn't the right decision for me or my family.

I'm having a real problem choosing a direction. One thing I will not do is settle for something that is just "okay".

I just hope I can find the right opportunity soon.

P. S. For the philosophically inclined and/or curious out there, take a look at an exploration of numerical and personal identity issues, Arglor-style. (In patented Streem-O-Conscious!)