Saturday, September 21, 2013

of mason and wall

pulling forth form

I am drawn to the building site
and to the masons who start to pull up the walls
of cinder block and mortar,
to the “mud” of the binding,
to each block distinct
until aligned and worked into the whole,
an action of creation that calls up to me the potter
who, like God in Genesis, pulls forth clay into substance,
the formless into form,

each mason gifted in the making
and warm in words and connection,

only single digits of days 
and concrete foundations will sprout the walls,
that will delineate rooms within which
teacher and learner will find their own way
to build form and substance,
and to reach toward the sky.

by Henry H. Walker
September 20, ’13

the construction of renovation

subtraction before addition

a cold breeze slips over me,
an insistent bird pipes at my attention,
while other birds are more random
in their whistles and warbles,
my body, too, pulls at my attention
with random aches and pains,
and, like the wind, blows my attention here and there,

the building site has no one working today:
bulldozers and backhoes, jackhammers and saws,
all have worked their will
on the old building and the older land,
cutting away to a flatness,
digging away to straight trenches, at right angles to each other,
concrete poured and waiting for the walls,

piles of cinder block stand at attention
and wait their turn to rise toward the sky,

the walls that will hold our dreams only an abstraction,
creation early on feels of destruction.

by Henry H. Walker
September 17, ’13

a master worrier

of doubts and fears

within me throbs a master governor,
a worrier who fears that something within will glitch,
so I need to dampen down the fire of my confidence,
that foundation that allows me to build
my actions upon the world,
I fear my underpinnings can be knocked away,
that I will be undone just when I need to do,

I crave to do, and to do well,
and I fear I’m not up to the tasks that call to me,
the people who call to me,
those charges of God that I can hear
and who I want to be there for,
wherever the “there” is that they need me to be,

those callings can shout so loud
that I can lose how to hear them
and how to follow their lead in what to do
while I pay more attention to the doubting whispers
that tell me I am more of pretense than of solidity,
that manifest in a worry that this part of my body, 
and then that part,
has something wrong about it,
I fear that I don’t deserve to be here,
that I’m not worthy of the charge
to respond to that which the divine order calls forth,
that a bill will come due
and all that I am will still not be able to pay it.

by Henry H. Walker
September 18, ’13

Sunday, September 15, 2013

to blaze bright, like the dawn

J and T

here on this island of rock
waves of mountains surround us,
just as past and future center here
while we’re awake enough to notice,

the rock remembers all that has gone before:
the hope that brought it high,
time that brought it down,
and now back up again to accept and endure,

the forest celebrates what can be
with needle and trunk and leaf and flower, all fully in the moment,
while also remembering what has gone before
and made them what they are,
the forest reaches to the future
so that every day that will come
will be as full of growth and beauty as the way allows,

as a new day dawns upon rock and forest,
a new day dawns upon us
and upon two gifts of the universe
who commit themselves to each other,
to the love they have found and made that will not be denied,

here at this sacred place we ask for them to feel
the blessings of earth and nature,
of ancestors and of those who will come after,
of that most basic drive to connect
and become more together than one can ever be alone,
may their unity endure like the mountain,
create like the forest,
and blaze bright like every new dawn on every new day.

by Henry H. Walker, August 4, 2013

congruity of self

being real

a pet peeve for me
is when a person is not “real,”
out of ignorance,
or fear,
or misguided notion,
a persona appears between the self within
and whom we see:

authenticity lost, for awhile at least,
cascades of self-doubt must have permeated the ether
and nothing seems right,
so that maybe this mask, or that,
can trick away the fear,
and somehow keep us Cinderella in the coach
and away from the fire,
we can fear that those who know us
will feel we are false and pretenders,
though we hope against hope that the coach is real,

we can love the story of princess and prince hidden,
and then revealed,
the ugly duckling really a swan,

maybe we know that really
we have an awesomeness within,
and that we pretend otherwise
at our own, and at the universe’s, risk. 

by Henry H. Walker
September 6, ’13

Monday, September 2, 2013

potential craves to be released

each child dreams

it’s the 50th anniversary of MLK sharing his dream,
and pushing all who would listen
to see what can be
if the right effort comes forth
from the best within us,

our school year begins
and families find their way to be with us,
for they feel something in what we do
that can call to the overwhelming love
all parents should have for their children:
those precious attempts by the universe to get it right,
to have actuality reach to equal the possibilities within the eyes
of each child who dreams and who should not be denied,

I know of many before who have found their way to our school
and who have found a path that seems to them right to follow,
and I have some idea of how well those paths
led to a somewhere worthy of their dreams,

as the school year begins,
I hope I can know my students
and help each find the ways to travel, 
worthy of their efforts 
and the awesome potential within each 
that craves to be released.

by Henry H. Walker
August 31, ’13