Poetry For Our Time

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason. -Novalis

January 20, 2009

with 2 comments

My eyes shift from the screen to the students,
          expecting to catch some quiet mischief,
          but instead, seeing silent amazement,
          eyes like saucers, hands in laps,
          mouths silently forming around words
          stringing together delicately, words
          hanging in the thin, winter air, words
          of their future.

Then, a boy breaks the silence,
          a boy usually so quiet, he barely seems to be there.
          He says, “I hope he does what he says he’ll do.”
          I  want to draw attention to the importance of that word:
          Hope.  We have built cities on hope,
          entire religions, families, futures,
          we’ve constructed monuments to it,
          written poems about it.  I want so badly
          to use this teachable moment, to extract every drop
          of education.  But instead, I quietly say:
          “I hope so, too.”

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Written by Ashley

February 9, 2009 at 2:14 am

Posted in Poem

2 Responses

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  1. I love this. I think the ending is awesome.

    windfriction

    February 9, 2009 at 4:04 am

  2. Really? I didn’t like it so much, but thanks. 🙂

    TheSamsanator

    February 9, 2009 at 4:09 am


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