In The Vivid Light I See

photo-by-kristin-manson-on-flickr

Photo: Kristin Manson

And in the vivid light

I see

People divided

Anger, glee.

As in the storms of

Right or wrong

The spaces in between

Are shorn.

Confusion swirls

Known facts to eddies.

Certitude dyes

Friends into enemies.

I see the children’s eyes

Bewildered

As lessons taught to them

Turn riddles:

“Be kind” but watch the adults bully.

“Be calm” but let grown-ups live cruelly.

“Be patient” yet role models tantrum.

“Don’t fight” as those who said

Not to

Attack, throw barbs, play foul

Speak awful.

Their little foreheads crease

With frowns

Which do they follow:

Said, or done?

And

In their vivid light

Do see

The path glows clear

A road to be.

Past time to wash away

The livid rage

Recall the lessons

Of their age:

Hold space to listen

Pace to learn

Revisit patience

Drop hate

Stop spurn.

 

 

For The Daily Post

How Will I Know?

girlchem

“How will I know?” the girl hung spectacled green eyes on me. Teeth aglitter with pastel-colored braces bit her lower lip. “What if I wait till it’s too late?”

It was decision time for Summer Camp and she was fretting.

Should she go to the same camp she’d gone to twice already, the camp her cousin goes to, and where several of her classmates will be? She loved it there. It was familiar. It was only three hours away from home. There was a lake and zip-lines and horseback riding. She was going to choose her best friend from last summer as a bunk-mate. It felt like another home.

Or … should she go to the other camp … the one she’d heard of last year but by then already had no openings? The science camp sounded like everything she’d ever want … but now the choice – and possible consequences – became real. That camp was half-way across the continent. It was on a campus, not in a forest. There’d be no one there she knows.

“My friends say I’m crazy because who wants school when there’s finally no school,” she sighed. Her finger twirled the edge of an auburn lock. Twist, hold, release; twist, hold, release. I thought of how the movement mirrored her dilemma … To hold on or to let go, to keep close or to let loose.

A difficult concept at any age, let alone at eleven.

“Hmm …” I noted. It wasn’t my input this child needed, just my ear.

“It’s not like school!” she stressed, a bit defensively. “It’s interesting! Also, they have summer camp activities. A pool, and trips, even arts and crafts. … Well, the crafts are more like, robotics and such, but that’s still crafting stuff, isn’t it?”

I nodded.

She took a deeper breath. “And I like science … They have a whole week about space. We’ll even get to visit a real observatory!” Her eyes shone as if they were already reflecting several constellations, and she sat straighter. Then she sagged. “But I don’t know anyone.”

“Not yet,” I noted. “I gather this won’t last.”

The auburn curl twirled, corked, released. “Yeah … There were a lot of kids I didn’t know in the other camp, especially the first time. But …” the big green eyes widened as the core of doubt unmasked. “What if everyone there is, you know, dorks and nerds and such?”

My eyebrows rose, amused. “And if they are? …”

She frowned but then a pastel-braces grin appeared. “Well … then I’ll fit right in…”

womenscientist1

 

For The Daily Post

 

Before

be-kind-dalai-lama

 

Before you lash out,

Hesitate.

Before you wit your words to punch,

Take pause.

Before you bully to submission

Before you weave a snarky thread

To tie another’s tongue

Before you bask in righteous indignation

Before you bathe in perceived superiority

Of color

Nationality

Views

Beliefs

Affiliation

Possessions

Excess …

Breathe a moment

To consider

And re-assess

The empty value

The pseudo-justification

In power used

To inflict hurt.

 

 

For The Daily Post