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Posts Tagged ‘resurrection fern’

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Carol at Beyond Literacy Link

On the first Friday of the month, Inklings (my trusty writing group) respond to a challenge. Mary Lee made it easy this month. She asked us to type a color into the public domain image archive and find a photo to write about. I chose lilac. I immediately got a photo I knew was telling a story. I imagined that Lilas and the bug are having a conversation.

“Unhappy the man who never had his eyes fill with tears at the sight of a particular flower. Such a one can have been neither a child nor a youth. He can have had neither mother, sister, nor affianced bride. He never loved.” This is the tone and tenor throughout Les Fleurs animées (The Flowers personified), a collection of floral — and sometimes florid — writing, featuring playful illustrations by J. J. Grandville (1803–1847), engraved and hand-colored by Charles Michel Geoffroy.

How Lilas Learns of Love (a cherita)

With draping lilacs for long locks,

Lilas questions Sir Ladybug,
“Where will my love grow?”

Love grows from a starter seed
planted small in your heart
until with wisdom, grace, and tender care…Blooms!

Margaret Simon, draft

To see other Inkling poems, visit their blogs:
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Molly @ Nix the Comfort Zone (and oh boy, did she ever…)
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core 

Spiritual Journey first Thursday is gathered by Bob Hamera.

Bob suggested we ponder the idea that doors may close while another one opens, how focusing on the closed door may lead us to miss the open one. My father spoke about this in his firm belief that there is always a resurrection. Jesus showed us in a very real sense that when someone dies, it is not the end. I’ve always prided myself on a belief in the resurrection; however, when faced with an actual closed door, a death of something in my life that I put my trust in, whether it be a job, a friendship, a manuscript, I get lost and lonely and question. That is the rough part of the death/resurrection story arc.

I am following a path to a new journey to retirement. This is a door I’ve chosen, but even so, I have mixed feelings. So many of my days with my students are good, happy, and fulfilling. I will miss teaching, I know. I also know I’m a teacher through and through. I chose this career when I was 15 years old. I will find ways to still be a teacher. I keep telling myself this truth, but it’s not easy. When I tell people I’m retiring, I hear “Congratulations!” I wish I could feel excited. Is it the closed door I fear? Or the open one I’m unsure about?

Resurrection fern is grey when the sun is out, but turns to bright green after the rain. May God bless us with the knowledge and grit to survive the grey and thrive again after the rain.

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Rain has returned! It helps cool things a bit. Rather than near 100 degrees, we are closer to 90. Afternoon showers make for cooler morning walks, mid-70’s, Ah! With rain comes resurrection fern. It grows on oak trees and after a good soaking, emerges as a deep green shaggy blanket on the branches of the trees. This oak I passed on my walk greeted me with a heart. Use this photo as a muse for your writing today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments. Thanks for stopping by.

Tree Heart with resurrection fern, Margaret Simon, 2022.

From a sleepy, dry bed,
fluffy green feathers
emerge
surrounding your open
heart…
Resurrection!

Margaret Simon, draft

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Welcome to my weekly photo writing prompt. Take a peaceful moment to lose yourself in words. Write a poem of 16 words or so and place it in the comments. Write encouraging words to others by commenting on their poems. This week we are writing with the hashtag poeticdiversion that Molly Hogan started on Twitter.

This week’s image comes from my friend and neighbor James Edmunds. James does a lot of creative work including photography. I once took a class from him about iPhone photography and learned some cool tricks. I don’t know if he took this picture with his phone, but I doubt it. James, if you stop by, let us know.

Way down south here we’ve been getting a great deal of rain lately. The resurrection fern loves rain, and it pops up in beautiful green carpets on our trees. In nature, there are small miracles like this every day.

Resurrection Fern by James Edmunds, all rights reserved

Inside the depths
of fronds and rhizomes
fairies twinkle
&
dance.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Find more celebration posts at Ruth's blog.

Find more celebration posts at Ruth’s blog.

 

I take a walk in my neighborhood.  One of the gifts of living in South Louisiana are the live oak trees.  We have been getting rain every day this summer.  It helps to keep temperatures reasonable, in the 80’s rather than the 90’s, and it resurrects the resurrection fern.

This morning the sun was up and glowing on the fern.  I often refer to this phenomenon in my poetry.  A word search on my blog turned up 9 results.  To celebrate the fern today, I am re-using the lines in a photo-poem.

My senses awake like resurrection fern after the rain,

Grandmother Oak holds her jewels
of resurrection fern and Spanish moss
like modest ornaments.

 

 

 

Fern glistens in the emerging sun.

 

 

 

Her branches open wide for resurrection fern.

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Being present is easy
when the light shines
on resurrection fern
making shadows to
fascinate me.

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Live oaks reveal God’s name,
open resurrection fern.

I also found this poem gift from Diane Mayr.

Image by Diane Mayr

Image by Diane Mayr

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Discover. Play. Build.

Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.

My week back from the break was a full week. School every day (no snow days in South Louisiana) and parent conference day on Thursday. Report cards, progress reports, IEP meetings, etc. I need another break!

This week was also full of discoveries. My husband bought my students a gift, a mini-microscope. I passed it around in the package which was covered in foreign characters, no English. Then we took out the little blue plastic thing. They tried the switches, put their eyes to the view hole, and guessed flashlight, magnifying glass–microscope! Jacob’s reaction to the discovery, “Ew! My hand is covered in fish scales.” Fun discoveries.

What is this?

What is this?

My students are loving the white boards that a grandpa made for them. Here, Erin’s lemur friend tells how to make the best Monday, What are you Reading? post. Look at the creative spelling of genre.

Erin's guide to reader

My online writing group is driving me in so many ways. I posted a section of my WIP with “draping oak.” The question, “Do oaks drape?” On a Sunday afternoon walk after a huge rain, we came to this draping oak covered in resurrection fern. I posted it on Facebook asking for help in describing this in writing. Diane Mayr responded with an image poem. She didn’t know what resurrection fern was, so she researched it. More discoveries.

Live oak tree covered in resurrection fern.

Live oak tree covered in resurrection fern.

Image by Diane Mayr

Image by Diane Mayr

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On my early morning walk today, I was alone. My cell phone came along to track my mileage and pace, but it ended up recording my poem. Later when I checked the text, I discovered some funny misinterpretations. “High in the sky” became “Pie-in-the-sky.” “Workday” became “birthday.” The words didn’t really work with the poem I was trying to speak-write, but I had to smile at the idiosyncrasies of language.
After I worked on it, the poem became a grossblank, 12 lines with 12 syllables.

If you want to study the skeletons of frogs,
take a walk after the storm when the sun comes up.
Listen to the mockingbird song, high-pitched grating
like fingernails on the chalkboard. I walk the path
of the fallen limbs and clustered puddles of leaves.
We are washed yet still unclean. New day sun breaks
deepening the green, solid, and strong earth. Red spots
glitter after I glance at the spotlight. God’s eyes
peak through the ghost of a waning moon. Wren gathers
twigs for nesting, flutters off like a thief with goods.
No need for imagination here; all life breathes.
The beat of my footsteps become my prayer.

After a storm, resurrection fern fluffs up and becomes a green blanket on the live oaks.

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