Visit Tara Smith at A Teaching Life for all the Poetry Friday links today. This time, Tara shares a poem that means goodbye to summer, something especially poignant for teachers returning to their classrooms. Thanks for hosting, Tara!
I've written sestinas, and have had my students write them too. It's a pleasing form, and often when one explores, I've found a story emerges. But I've never had someone write a sestina about me. I'm a bit embarrassed to share this from Doraine Bennett, who wrote and sent my latest swap surprise. It is a poem about me, and I am grateful to have been given such a compliment.
In addition to the sestina, Doraine sent me a gift that will be remembered for a long time, a variety of bulbs and seeds from her own garden!
Thanks for all the lovely surprises, Doraine!
|Each bulb or packet of seeds came with a note, but this|
note is especially wonderful: "from my daddy from me
|And something for the future flowers on their way!|
by Doraine Bennett
For one who knows how to celebrate,
life is like a garden.
Every plant has its story
woven intricately into the grand
scheme of things that bloom
and stretch towering heads toward sun.
That one always lifts her face to the sun,
looking for light, a reason to celebrate.
She has a knack for seeing a wild bloom
hidden beneath mulch in the garden,
one that isn’t nearly so grand
as the rose bursting with its own story.
That singular wild flower has a story
all its own and needs the sun,
but not just the sun. It needs a grand
gardener who can celebrate
the smallest, plainest plant in the garden
and give it the room necessary to bloom.
She knows just which bloom
needs just which story
in order to sink roots deep in the garden
and lift its tiny head toward sun.
Each time it happens, she knows to celebrate
the flower, the growth, the journey. It’s grand.
And so is she. She’s a grand
gardener, a grandmother in full bloom
teacher her grand flowers to celebrate
their own roots and buds, their story,
as she points their face toward the sun,
knowing the work required to grow a garden.
What is life without a garden?
And what is a garden without a grand
mother to share the sun
shining on each new bloom,
together growing a magical story
that each will celebrate?
One must know how to celebrate a garden
for the story, grand or common,
to burst full bloom into the shining of the sun.