Tag Archives: poetry

Contemplating Sunsets

Carol A. Hand

Photos of a fascinating sunset this spring
made me wonder how many sunsets I’ve missed
during the 26,374 days I have lived

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Sunset May 4 – Duluth hill top

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I don’t remember how many times
I failed to notice which direction was west
in the scores of places I’ve temporarily called home

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Sunset May 4 – descending the hill

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The busyness of striving and surviving
as we travel down winding paths
sometimes keeps us too preoccupied to notice

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Winding down the hill toward the city

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Our vision clouded by so many things
that we believe are more important
than the ever-present beauty around us

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View of the Blatnik Bridge in St. Louis Bay

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Even ordinary scenes become extraordinary
when seen through the lenses of presence
surrounded by those whom we love

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View of the ridge from West Duluth

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Perhaps noticing is especially important
when the clouds roll in promising another chilly rainy night
after the longest coldest winter I remember

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Denfeld High School highlighted

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At a time when the world already feels so dark
I am grateful for the chance to witness and remember
the beacon of momentary but ever-returning light

Note:

These are not the best of photos. They were taken in poor light with an iphone through dusty windows in a moving vehicle. 🙂 Nonetheless, I’m sharing them in hopes they will remind others to find moments to appreciate the beauty and wonder of seemingly ordinary places.

A Heartfelt Thankyou

Carol A. Hand

I don’t think I ever told you
how much your support and kindness
meant to me during my graduate studies
You taught me so much more than research
with your kindness and artful diplomacy

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You showed me how to teach
and stayed the course as my advisor
through so many changing research topics

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The one thing I regret is that
someone other than you
is handing me a symbolic diploma
in the photo of my final graduation ceremony

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I would guess that your humility keeps you from knowing
that I only attended the ceremony to honor you
on behalf of all of the Native American students
you mentored who were not as fortunate as I
to survive the grueling process you mastered
walking between two different worlds
with a kind heart and joyful spirit intact

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All I can say is chi miigwetch, dear friend
I will do my best to honor your gifts
by sharing what I learned from you
with others I encounter on this journey

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for G.D.S. with deep gratitude and love

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Reflections about Awakening

Carol A. Hand

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April Icing – April 26, 2017

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Life in the tragic gap between present reality
and clear visions (memories?) of what could be
is sometimes unbearably painful
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A fascinating visitor (American Pelecinid Wasp) – August 22, 2018
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The magic, mystery and beauty of life
in all its amazing intricate diversity
captures my undivided attention
filling me with a sense of reverent awe
yet beneath the surface almost simultaneously
I can feel the suffering of the earth
and the creatures who, like me, call her home
I sense the death throes of irreplaceable wonder
that nothing technology produces can ever replace
while too many of the earth’s children sleep

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Look west from Enger Tower – October 14, 2018
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I am grateful for the privileges I have had
to witness the power of awakening
as the students I work with discover things
which those in power never meant for them to know
Perhaps it is way too little and way too late
yet a prayer rises in my heart that the earth
draws hope from their awakening
and that of light-affirming others around the world
garnering strength to heal for the sake of all life
across uncountable generations to come

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On the road to Hana, Maui – 1998

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Afterward:

I do worry about the challenges that those who are awakening to the wonder of the world will face in the future. I wrote and titled this poem before reading an article by Tess Owen in Vice News. Owen describes a different kind of awakening among white nationalists from around the world who gathered in Finland this past weekend. They referred to their celebration as “Awakening II.” I sincerely hope they will awaken to wonder, too.

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Rainy Day Reflections

Carol A. Hand

Rainy Day Reflections – March 27, 2019
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Greeting the morning
listening
to the sounds of the awakening city
the loud constant whirring of traffic
on wet pavement just before school starts
joined by deep thrumming in the distance
as the train whistle sounds and the school bell shrills
Sounds crescendoing accompanied by thunder
rumbling in the distance then booming overhead

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Retreating inside
listening
to the refrigerator quietly humming
before my dog and parakeet awaken
to greet the morning with song

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I miss the long ago sounds of the forest
but I have to believe there’s a reason
for being here now
questioning
whether simple loving actions matter
contemplating
the importance of purpose,
perspicacity, persistence, and patience
as the storm moves on to the east,
clouds clear and traffic sounds fade
allowing bird song to be heard once again
as my little dog awakens and explores the new day
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“I think I’ll try to climb up the steps.”
“I know I can do this!”
“I can do this, too!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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For My Daughter

Carol A. Hand

I feel your concern as I walk slowly now
trudging up and down hills or on icy sidewalks
following behind as you lead the way
heading toward a future that is yours alone
I need to travel at my own pace – sure-footed
to avoid adding to the burdens I know you carry

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Loving you means trusting life and letting you go onward
accepting the limitations of a frail aging frame with grace
watching you with love, compassion, joy, and heavy sadness
remembering conundral choices that I suspect hurt you
hoping one day you will understand that loving you deeply
gave me courage to face daunting challenges to keep you safe

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My daughter, Turns Falls, Massachusetts, 1975

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Yesterday, March 5th, was my granddaughter’s twelfth birthday. We had a lovely family celebration. But it’s a date that always makes me feel both deeply grateful, and deeply guilty.

I was traveling when I learned that my daughter was in the hospital giving birth to her daughter prematurely. In the midst of a powerful late winter snowstorm, the airports were closed in both of the cities where my daughter and I were. Renting a car to drive hundreds of miles through the storm wasn’t an option. There was no way I could be there. I could only fly home to a distant state the next day while the storm continued to batter the city where my daughter was.

When the airport reopened on the third day, I was faced with a conundrum. I was carrying heavy responsibilities for gifted, at-risk graduate students in a university that was unsupportive of those who were different in some way. If I left again to be with my daughter, it was likely their graduation would, at best, be delayed. I decided to send my partner, my daughter’s stepfather for most of her life, to be there instead. It was several months before I held my granddaughter for the first time.

All of the students I was advising graduated, many passing their final requirements with distinction, and they went on to careers helping vulnerable people. Yet, I know my daughter was deeply hurt. I will always wonder if I made the “right” choice, just as I will always remember that her birth was the greatest gift in my life.

A Snowy Birthday – 2019

Carol A. Hand

The super moon brightened the sky
on the night before my birthday
despite increasing cumulus clouds
promising another imminent storm

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February 19, 2019

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The snowiest February on record
was older than me on my birthday
yet the sight on the morning after
brought this year close to a tie

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February 21, 2019

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It seems all I’ve done is shovel snow,
grade student papers, and prepare classes
My yak trax are wearing thin with use
and my little car, White Pony,
is surrounded by growing piles of snow

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February 23, 2019

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Given the weather forecast for this week
we’re likely to set a new record
Ah, my aching back and shoulders
make me hope the meteorologists are wrong…

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Yet I am grateful for so many things
The chance to work with colleagues
who genuinely care about students and teaching
The opportunity to work with students
who are eager to learn and think critically
Virtual friends whose creativity, passion, and kindness
bring blessings of beauty, laughter, and new knowledge
A long life that has brought me to an old house
in the northlands where I can marvel
at the beauty of tiny crystals and wonder
how many billions it takes to blanket the earth
for hundreds of square miles under three feet of snow
And the health and strength to shovel
and shovel
and shovel
wondering
if spring
will
ever
come
again

 

PS – If you’re curious to know how my car got the name “White Pony,” here are some links to older posts that tell pieces of the story:

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/01/01/reflections-on-winters-past/

https://voices-from-the-margins.blog/2015/07/25/la-joie-de-la-vie/

Reflections about Detachment

Carol A. Hand

You tried to take it all
but it was never enough
to fill the insatiable void
you carried deep within
Ultimately you taught me
a valuable lesson

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wounded

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Detachment –
the art of letting go of my ego’s needs –
for attention, relationships,
approval from others,
or holding on tightly
to anything I loved

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Unencumbered I was free
to live my life as I pleased
The gifts I’ve given freely
bore the fruit of a worthwhile life
and helped my spirit grow
in ways you may never know

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healing

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You say you’re proud of my accomplishments?
We’re family and I should listen to history revised?
Naw… I’m done with that.
Compassion, forgiveness, and wisdom don’t require one
to continue a charade based on illusions
as a partner in the dance of perpetual mutual rewounding

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What I can give you out of kindness is distance and space
and my sincere wish that one day you will discover
and learn to celebrate your own accomplishments

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Reflections about Aging

Carol A. Hand

Soon I will greet
my second septuagenarian birthday
I never envisioned living this long
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As I look back I realize
there is one piece of advice
I wish to share with those who are younger –
Take care of your physical body
It may last far longer than you imagine
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I look at my sagging skin suit, chuckling
It has had to stretch and shrink
more times than I can remember
and despite the claims of clothing manufacturers,
one size never really fits everyone (anyone?) well

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Me early in my journey

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Now my skin suit is a bit too big
Perhaps that’s a blessing
the bones that support me
are lighter, more porous and fragile
making flights of imagination and fantasy easier
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Still, this body serves me well
reminding me to exercise mindful discipline
and move with a greater sense of purpose
humbly, gratefully, and compassionately

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my daughter’s most recent birthday – October 18, 2018

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