Ahh – how busy this week is! (She says, while trying to recall a week that wasn’t.) I still love the month of April, and not just because my birthday rests in there. Also, there are tulips. (And I’m missing so many of them this year with no walking and running.)
It’s also National Poetry Month, and so I give you a few haiku’s by E. (She’s prolific, particularly in April.)
waa waa waa waa waa
waa waa waa waa waa waa waa
Finally, she sleeps.
Control the powers
You reverse the curse with love
Break the frozen ice
Smell the-achoo!–fresh rainfall
I am enjoying the extra poetry in my days. I really enjoyed this show on Wednesday, especially this part around the 26:30 mark:
We don’t really live after things happen, we live in their aftermath. I don’t think we get over things or come to closure. I really believe that we learn to live beyond those experiences, and our language also passes through… so that language becomes different.
I’ve been thinking so much lately about this path of learning (re-learning) to live beyond loss, now that we are six months out from it. The idea that our language is also forced to transition into a new place, and becomes changed by that journey, feels very true. That’s also not the first time I’ve been thinking about the concept of closure lately either. I also listened to this talk that Brooke sent me last week about that very thing.
Back to that first link – I loved the end part, talking about introducing children to poetry very early on and making it a regular part of their reading and listening each day. The girls love it when I pull a book of poetry off the shelf and we read poem after poem after poem before bed. I have one of our favorite books of poetry listed here, but I obviously need to flesh that out a bit more – there are so many.
And speaking of books (and birthdays! – my sis celebrated one too this month – by running a half marathon!) – here’s a good one to look forward to:
Sending spring vibes your way with this one. If you’ve found anything great to share, please do. (Bonus points if it’s poetry or ice cream.)