new moon

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New Moon
Ted Kooser

How much it must bear on its back,
a great ball of blue shadow,
yet somehow it shines, keeps up
an appearance. For hours tonight,
I walked beneath it, learning.
I want to be better at carrying sorrow.
If my face is a mask, formed over
the shadows that fill me,
may I smile on the world like the moon.

Photo by Dean Hayton on Unsplash

my wisdom

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My Wisdom
Naomi Shihab Nye

When people have a lot
they want more
When people have nothing
they will happily share it
*
Some people say
never getting your way
builds character
By now our character must be
deep and wide as a continent
Africa, Australia
giant cascade of stars
spilling over our huge night
*
Where did the power go?
Did it enjoy its break?
Is power exhausted?
What is real power?
Who really has power?
Did the generator break?
Do we imagine silence
more powerful because
it might contain everything?
Quiet always lives
inside noise.
But does it get much done?
*
Silence waits
for truth to break it
*
Calendars can weep too
They want us to have better days
*
Welcome to every minute
Feel lucky you’re still in it
*
No bird builds a wall
*
Sky purse
     jingling
           change
*
Won’t give up
our hopes
            for anything!
*
Not your fault
You didn’t make the world
*
How dare this go on and on?
cried the person who believed in praying
God willing     God willing        God willing
There were others who prayed
   to ruins & stumps
*
Open palms
     hold more
*
Refuse to give
   mistakes
      too much power
*
Annoying person?
Person who told me to stay home
and do what other girls do?
If you disappeared
I still might miss you
*
Babies want to help us
They laugh
for no reason
*
Pay close attention to
a drop of water
on the kitchen table
*
You cannot say one word about religion
and exclude Ahmad

 

geodes

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Geodes
Jared Carter

They are useless, there is nothing
to be done with them, no reason, only

the finding: letting myself down holding
to ironwood and the dry bristle of roots

into the creekbed, into clear water shelved
below the outcroppings, where crawdads spurt

through silt; clawing them out of clay, scrubbing
away the sand, setting them in a shaft of light

to dry. Sweat clings in the cliff’s downdraft.
I take each one up like a safecracker listening

for the lapse within, the moment crystal turns
on crystal. It is all waiting there in darkness.

I want to know only that things gather themselves
with great patience, that they do this forever.

 

carry

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Carry
Billy Collins

I want to carry you
and for you to carry me
the way voices are said to carry over water.

Just this morning on the shore,
I could hear two people talking quietly in a row
boat on the far side of the lake.

They were talking about fishing,
then one changed the subject,
and, I swear, they began talking about you.

the railway children

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The Railway Children
Seamus Heaney

When we climbed the slopes of the cutting
We were eye-level with the white cups
Of the telegraph poles and the sizzling wires.

Like lovely freehand they curved for miles
East and miles west beyond us, sagging
Under their burden of swallows.

We were small and thought we knew nothing
Worth knowing. We thought words travelled the wires
In the shiny pouches of raindrops,

Each one seeded full with the light
Of the sky, the gleam of the lines, and ourselves
So infinitesimally scaled

We could stream through the eye of a needle.