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Last month I participated in two challenges: Spark and Sunday Swaggers. Spark is an exchange between writer and artist led by Amy Souza. I partnered with Jone MacCulloch. I sent her a poem. She sent me this amazing photograph.
Lady Bird Johnson Grove by Jone Rush MacCulloch
How Do We Stand?
I go to Lady Bird Johnson Grove to be among these giant trees.
Fenced forest of ten thousand branches diffuses blue sky radiation illuminating tunnels in the midst
of roots ungrounded–a path to the great unknown.
Moved by stillness, we pass ancient ruins, an army of roots intertwined. I’ll lock arms with you
through dark spaces where rays of light are swallowed and breathe in blue forever.
Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
Molly Hogan challenged our Sunday Swagger poetry group to write after Cheryl Dumesnil’s Today’s Sermon. I created a collage. Sometimes doing this helps me focus and inspires creative juices. After playing with collage and word collecting, I pulled together a poem using the anaphora of Today’s Poem.
For 2021, I chose Inspire as my guiding One Little Word. How’s it going? Truth be told, I’m tired. This is our last day of school. This has been a weird year. Long in so many ways. Yet here we are again. Summer sun hangs high in the sky. Temperatures rise, and I crave the scent of chlorine and sunscreen.
Last week on a day when I was cleaning up and wondering how it is that I keep so much stuff from year to year, my colleague Erica came into my room. She teaches 4th grade next door to me, and I teach her daughter in gifted. She said, “I was channeling my best Margaret Simon. Look what we did! Black-out poetry!” She was so excited to show me the results.
As I think about inspire, I count the ways in which others inspire me; Artists, poets, musicians, all fill me with the desire to create. I hadn’t thought about how I inspire others. The 4th grade black-out poems made my heart swell. Erica knew it would.
Inspire is a communication of the heart, a creative connection, a gift to the world.
beautiful spring day no idea what was in store for me too perfect
This is (finally) our last week of school. Yesterday was my last day with my student Kaia. I arranged for the lead volunteer of the school garden, Jennie, to meet us in the garden for a tour of the plants there. We picked ripe plump blackberries. Loud mockingbirds serenaded us (or maybe they were shouting, “Get out!”). So much wildlife right there in the playground.
The garden had been neglected for 14 months since Covid prevented volunteers from gathering as well as the after school garden club. Overgrown vines and a few hurricanes had damaged the pergola structure, so the school maintenance crew tore it down. Jennie explained there was a plan for a new structure that would be sturdier, but this new greenhouse-like building would take funding.
I perked up! This is something Kaia is really good at, using her voice for change. I suggested to her that she gather information and write a letter to the school board. She did and I sent it by email to our superintendent. By 3:30, she responded that she had talked it over with the superintendent of maintenance and the garden “outdoor classroom” would be ready for the fall. How cool is that!
Of course, while I was in the garden I took pictures. Today’s photo prompt is a nest we found tucked into a tree. The tree had large thorns, but I managed to get my arm in for a shot. No eggs, but maybe that was why Sir Mockingbird was so angry.
A nest can be a garden watcher, songbird nurturer, the pot at the end of a rainbow.
Margaret Simon (with nod to Laura Purdie Salas’s Can Be series)
Please join me today in the “Secret Garden” and write a small poem response in the comments. Be sure to support other writers with your comments.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I don’t remember who recommended The Isolation Journals by Suleika Jaouad as a place to find prompts for writing, but on Sunday morning I was sitting with this idea of dwelling in possibility from Rhonda Willers.
Art made by Rhonda Willers
Saturday had been a full afternoon of Leo, my 2 1/2 year-old grandson. With his mom, my daughter, we attended a party in a small town, a gathering attended by some of Maggie’s high school friends, there with lots of young children. So much happens in 15 months of separation. Babies were born. Babies became toddlers. Toddlers became children. And they were all so happy to see each other.
At first Leo held up the wall.
Shy Leo watches the party from afar.
There was a yellow school bus parked in front of the building, a wonderful playground for toddlers who love to pretend to drive and fix things, curious and full of possibility. Where are we going? Who’s coming along. “The wheels on the bus…”
“Go round and round,” an echo from a nearby grandpa.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m a little obsessed,” pointing at Leo in the driver’s seat.
“I am, too,” he replied pointing to the toddler opening and closing the bus door with the handle.
Each of us knew what a bus was for. We shared that we were both elementary school teachers. But today, we were filled with the possibilities of where our grandchildren will take us.
“Look, Mamere, I’m driving the bus!”
A teenage girl with braces was painting faces. Leo stepped up shyly and sat completely still as she painted a Spiderman mask over his eyes. Looking around there were about 4 or 5 boys of various ages all wearing Spiderman masks. They were transformed into super heroes able to run, climb, fall and get back up with newfound confidence.
Transformation into Spiderman
I was chatting with a former boyfriend of Maggie’s, now a father of two, about his kids. He pointed them out and said, “He’s two and she’s almost six. This is the best time.” Whether he meant being past the scary baby stage or beyond worries about pregnancy or being free to go to parties and take your kids with you, he was right. Even for me, as the Mamere tagging along. This is the best time, dwelling in possibility.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 