ready for the prom

the forest as teenager

like readying itself for the prom,

the forest has put on its finery,

the greens so new they look like they’ve been washed,

and they pose and bow and stand full and tall

to capture the sun as if it’s a photographer

who wants to record how perfect this moment is,

meanwhile, I know insects want the food cornucopiaing forth,

and they will provide another bounty of food for the birds,

I’m drawn to savor the perfect fullness of a tree

and the almost casual perfection of a blossom,

upcoming months will find blackberries where flowers are now,

cherries and nuts upon the trees,

for now, though, it’s time to be young and ready for the prom.

by Henry H. Walker

May 21, ’14

from the hidden to the found

Centered at Max Patch

from the beginning the world is hidden from us

as we are secure in the womb,

every revelation is again the coming forth from the hidden to the found,

our vans climb up the road

while feeling swallowed by valley and forest,

until the ridge opens into meadow

and the world enlarges to far more than anyone can hold,

mountains ripple and snake across the land,

as greens yellow from light to dark

to blue on the Appalachian ridge itself,

this view makes me think I’m at the center of the world,

and I read from that, not my importance,

but rather how large and wondrous 

the world is around and beyond me.

by Henry H. Walker

May 19, ’14

back to nature

primary sources

while there is that of God in all of us

whatever else is in there, too,

can muddy the waters and keep us from clarity,  

so it's often time to seek the primary source

of a flower, a vista, a waterfall,

how God, through nature,

reveals the order and beauty that wants to be

if we let it be so,

both a sunrise and a blossom are primary sources

against which we can compare the stuff of our lives

as we seek to find our best within,

and let it out.

by Henry H. Walker

May 16, ’14

a sculpture of words

the form within

sometimes I have the sculptor’s eye:

what I’ve heard is the sense

to see the shape within the stone,

the form who wants to shape itself from the formless,

in another’s eye I can often see a gleam

of someone awesome within

who wants to dare to come out,

as I work with students in my classes,

what I see is order beginning to be set free

from the chaos of circumstance and hormones and bad decisions,

there’s a lot of detritus that gets cast away in the carving,

I find far more discarded chips than arrowheads

when I search ground where native peoples worked the stone

to bring forth what they needed,

what they wanted,

what they saw and caused to be,

I hold in my hand now a novel written by a former student

who found greatness potential within her

and dared to work the years necessary to bring forth

a sculpture of words to hold against

the entropic dissolution that seeks to deny the sculptor’s vision.

by Henry H. Walker

May 16, ’14

Science Day '14

the clarity of science

I avoid instruction manuals,

I find them obfuscatory and obtuse,

I tire quickly when reading the rules of a game

for rules are like a skeleton:

they give structure but lack spark, adventure, life,

yet what is science

but the look for the blueprint, the rules,

the “why” behind the “what,”
the “how” within the “is”?

and I love science,

I love the clarity 

when the simplicity of answers

burns through the mist of our ignorance,

when the oracles speak not in riddle

and instead let us see an expanding truth,

how hard it is to be open

both to what comforts us

and to what challenges

how we’d like it all to be.

how wonderful when one can have gifted guides into the clarity of science,

our middle school celebrates science with a “Science Day,”

an ice-storm blocked our March day for it

with pine trees down everywhere

and power out at school,

presenters asked for a rescheduling,

the students wanted it to happen,

so we found a way for all to come together two months later:

the day starts off with an exuberant hour

that explores the science of music

and involves the kids as instrument and questing mind,

a wealth of workshops follows as practitioners of disciplines

share how their particular doors open into revelation:

how dangers can be seen and prepared for,

how soil and Siri and the brain work,

how unsettling optic illusions and settling fibers work,

how Paleolithic foods can be tastefully reciped into tasty treats,

how DNA can be enticed from strawberries

and plastic visioned into creations,

how baboons can be studied in the wild,

how gravity works in the falling

and how rockets work in the lifting,

how simple items can be engineered into drawing machines,

throughout it all, workshops leaders blaze with enthusiasm and competence,

and light after light within the students flares in sympathetic response,

how appropriate that our final challenge involves design of a package 

to protect an incandescent light bulb in a drop of 10 feet,

the light bulb so often a symbol of a new thought,

and all the packages work 

so that every light tests “on” in a lamp,

the light within each student today,

now only did not dim,

but rather the inherent brightness of each redoubles into the brightness

we believe to be the inherent rightness of each student before us.

by Henry H. Walker

May 9, ’14

the comfortable tyranny that calls us

swimming against the current

“Mother! I’d rather do it myself!”

whined a voice in a commercial

that went viral in the terms of the 1970’s,

something there is in me that is put off

by cake mixes and GPS and calculators:

I want to cook from scratch,

to reconnoiter and seek to find the way on my own,

and to figure math with the computer between my ears

and a piece of paper my screen,

I want to try to figure what a word of phrase means like a detective

before I slip into telling a servant to do it for me,

asking Google to tell me like it is,

each new tool sprouts with bells and whistles

that call us to want it,

for now I resist enough to be somewhat free

from the comfortable tyranny of the servant calling the shots

as much as it would,

my stomach keeps telling me to say “yes” to the smorgasbord

while my girth keeps reminding me that “no” can be better

if I want to be my own master,

I should swim against the current of what is easy,

I still push my lawn mower,

yet I feel the call of sitting and steering.

by Henry H. Walker
May 8, ’14

images courtesy of Google Images( note the irony)

when potential births itself unto the world

the brilliance within

brilliance is everywhere around us,

what we can lack is discrimination, discernment,

how to notice, how to develop the inherent,

the brilliant can hide within the dull,

and we need to learn to separate seed

from the chaff all around,

for example, every moment contains within itself

the possibility of photos that can open the eyes to wonder,

every moment poems can be found, aching to be written,

and sometimes my gift allows me to find

the photo and the poem that can work,

I can imagine stories and paintings and music

that always hide just beneath the surface

to be found by those with the right gifts to notice,

also, every person has greatness hidden within

that wants to be found and to be released,

how wonderful it is every time

that such potential births itself unto the world.

by Henry H. Walker

May 1, ’14