The ablest navigators

 poetry, philosophy, found photos, vintage images, my own snaps, music, the human condition and grace. Yep - that about covers it.
“In all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable is each other.”― Carl Sagan (dying Indiana town; photo mine; iphone 4s)

“In all our searching, the only thing we’ve found that makes the emptiness bearable is each other.”
― Carl Sagan

(dying Indiana town; photo mine; iphone 4s)

Have you ever taken anything out of the clothes basket because it had become, relatively, the cleaner thing? —Katherine Whitehorn (GPOY)

Have you ever taken anything out of the clothes basket because it had become, relatively, the cleaner thing? —Katherine Whitehorn

(GPOY)

Bike with no hands One look at you and I knew you’d be able to ride a bike with no hands. I’d tried it, of course, but could never do it. It was written all over your face that you would have practised, bare legs, bloody knees, in the summer evenings, hours at a time when no-one was watching the mishaps, until casually, coolly, at infinite ease you’d ride, no-handed, surveying the street as if you’d been born on a circus bike. I wish – but then, we are what we are. I drive with two hands, walk with both feet firmly planted on sensible ground. And I’ve got you. Who can ride with no hands. (Helena Nelson)

Bike with no hands

One look at you and I knew
you’d be able to ride a bike with no hands.

I’d tried it, of course, but could never do it.
It was written all over your face that you
would have practised, bare legs, bloody knees,
in the summer evenings, hours at a time
when no-one was watching the mishaps, until
casually, coolly, at infinite ease
you’d ride, no-handed, surveying the street
as if you’d been born on a circus bike.

I wish – but then, we are what we are.
I drive with two hands, walk with both feet
firmly planted on sensible ground. And
I’ve got you. Who can ride with no hands.

(Helena Nelson)

Late afternoon sun in the hundred acre wood … (daffodil; photo mine; iphone 4s)

Late afternoon sun in the hundred acre wood …

(daffodil; photo mine; iphone 4s)

Let the Sunrise Come

Let the night’s darkness
turn into the light of the sunrise.

Let it shine through
the windows of houses, buildings,
and barns.

Let the farmers start milking,
let the clouds float in.
Let sunrise come.

Let the children flood
into school.

Let the babies make messes
with their breakfast.

Let sunrise come.
To the lazy cats,
to the active puppies,
to the croaking frogs,
let sunrise come.

Let the roosters call
cock-a-doodle-doo as everyone
wakes up to their alarms.

Let it come
and let it be bright,
let sunrise come.

by Claire, 3rd grade

****
This poem is from the Writers in the Schools project blog. The blog feature essays, stories, and poems that were created by K-12 students in the program. All material (c) Writers in the Schools 2007-2011

I see the moon, the moon sees me shining through the leaves of the old oak tree Oh, let the light that shines on me shine on the one I love. Over the mountain, over the sea, back where my heart is longing to be Oh, let the light that shines on me shine on the one I love. I hear the lark, the lark hears me singing from the leaves of the old oak tree Oh, let the lark that sings to me sing to the one I love, Over the mountains, over the sea back where my heart is longing to be Oh, let the lark that sings to me sing to the one I love. (Full moon; photo mine; iPhone 4S)

I see the moon, the moon sees me
shining through the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.

Over the mountain, over the sea,
back where my heart is longing to be
Oh, let the light that shines on me
shine on the one I love.

I hear the lark, the lark hears me
singing from the leaves of the old oak tree
Oh, let the lark that sings to me
sing to the one I love,

Over the mountains, over the sea
back where my heart is longing to be
Oh, let the lark that sings to me
sing to the one I love.

(Full moon; photo mine; iPhone 4S)

Wake Robin (Trillium recurvatum) in the Hundred Acre Wood


(in the woods; photos mine; iphone 4s)

“I want some one to sit beside after the day’s pursuit and all its anguish, after its listening, its waitings, and its suspicions. After quarreling and reconciliation I need privacy—to be alone with you, to set this hubbub in order. For I am as neat as a cat in my habits.” ― Virginia Woolf, The Waves (Mr. Spofford purrs in my ear at the end of a long day; photo mine; iphone 4s)

“I want some one to sit beside after the day’s pursuit and all its anguish, after its listening, its waitings, and its suspicions. After quarreling and reconciliation I need privacy—to be alone with you, to set this hubbub in order. For I am as neat as a cat in my habits.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

(Mr. Spofford purrs in my ear at the end of a long day; photo mine; iphone 4s)

“

And suddenly you know: It’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.”
― Meister Eckhart