Thursday, May 26, 2011

A Sentence in the Hands of a Child

Today I had the extreme honor of listening to third graders read their fictional stories. And I loved every minute of FBI baby brothers, Giant BFF's, and talking teddy bears. During one such conference I took pause - to marvel at the power of one sentence in the hands of a child. The boy was still writing his story but would occasionally stop to read aloud to me. He stopped reading mid-sentence at one point and began writing frantically, only taking a moment to fill me in, "He doesn't get back to earth with this sentence, but he does escape from the alien monster." I just smiled back, because where did that alien come from? Last I'd read with him, a few minutes prior, there was only a rabbit riding on the back of an electronic magical horse. Wow, that's one sentence.

A sentence in the hands of a child, holds the potential of all things created - and yet to be imagined.

A sentence in the hands of a child, is putty for little Gods - building new worlds.

A sentence in the hands of a child, carries infinite possibilities and boundless imagination.

It crackles with sparkling optimism, sings with un-muted hope, shines with their smiles reflecting back, smells like recess, tastes like ice-cream and feels like life once lived... too short to see the fences.

A sentence in the hands of a child...
But ah, only a child really can.

Marvel at the power, of one sentence
In the hands of a child.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Death is Only Part of Life

Death is only part of life.
I know this
So how can it shock me

We were all here just a minute ago
Complete, the circle of my family

Time was counting down our bliss
Death is only a part of life
We know this

The black cloud on the horizon
Didn’t come in the order presumed
It struck around - a chaotic tornado, ripping away our young

The old were ready, the adults resigned
The children, they were our protected
Death was to meet with us first - our song had been sung
His song
Was on the tip of his tongue

Death is only a part of life.
Why did I believe it would care of our strife
When great waves wash away a great many more
Then earthquakes, floods and war

The children should be last
A selfish plea to the universe
Take us all as I know you must
But leave our children behind us