Happy November Poetry Friday friends! Be sure to visit Writing the World for kids, where Laura is graciously hosting today's round-up.
Every year at the end of October, I place this jar with broken pieces of clay pottery on my mantle. I discovered each one in the soil after a heavy rainstorm had rumbled over the ridge. It was interesting to find them scattered in different areas of my backyard. These pieces are a link to the past and to the history of this beloved hill top I now call home. Though each one is unique, they are all made from the same clay. They are a reminder of all those who came before me and lived upon this land. While I will never know them or the stories of their life, I can honor them by preserving what remains. Sometimes the stories of the past are left untold or may be easily forgotten with the passing of time. These shards of clay help me to remember. I feel that the past begs us to listen. It wants to tell the story. So I must listen. Invitation to Write:
Think about the times you have stumbled across something you had never seen before or had been hidden away. It might be a time you found an interesting rock in the ground or maybe you found an old stuffed animal in a closet. Have you ever found something unexpectedly and wondered about where it came from? If you have, try imagining that it could speak to you. Listen. What is it saying to you? Let it tell you its story. It's when we truly listen, that the stories of the past unfold!
10 Comments
11/4/2016 12:05:20 pm
I like that idea of things "buried beneath the past", a slightly different way of looking at what is found. My students and I once hiked in a special spot in north west New Mexico, protected land with many shards of pottery from long gone residents. Your own collection reminds me of that. While we were to touch none, merely record in sketches, it was a magical experience. Thanks for this reminder to hold dear those who have passed on.
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11/4/2016 12:34:24 pm
I feel the same way when I'm browsing through second-hand book stores in my neighborhood. I pick up old, worn, tattered books and wonder about the people who owned, read and loved them (or didn't!) - it gives me a feeling of connection with all the people who've lived and come and gone in my city.
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11/4/2016 02:25:33 pm
Kiesha, I look forward to visiting you each Friday. This poem is exquisite. I think this should be entered into a contest somewhere. I'd cite a favorite line---except they are all favorites. And, the jar of pieces is beautiful. I think the poem merged with the photo would be a lovely gift. It already is! Have a great week.
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How beautiful, Keisha; your words, your reasoning, and your recording. I like the way you have looked at the past as a blanket over what has gone before. For me, your most powerful line, was 'bread uneaten'. That is so real. So immediate. You can almost taste the bread.
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11/5/2016 08:20:44 am
Very poignant, Kiesha. That is a lovely jar. I wonder what the owners would think of their broken bits on your mantle.
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11/5/2016 11:55:38 am
I love "it wants to be found." Don't we all? Really nice reading (though a little slower would be great, too, so we could savor your voice and words). Thanks for sharing your work!
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Mary Lee Hahn
11/6/2016 04:52:54 am
Yes, we MUST listen to the past!!
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11/6/2016 05:18:22 am
I like to think of those pieces as a broken jar inside a jar which push the door to the past ajar. I bet you will like this poem I wrote for a SPARK matchup, about a photo...
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4/12/2018 08:07:04 pm
Your poem affected life?! Yes, you can share your lovely poem and its great "after story" with the world... Submit now on LifePoemsProject.com
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AuthorWelcome! I'm Kiesha Shepard, and I have a love for writing and the teaching of writing. Whispers From the Ridge is a place where I can share my words and ideas for teaching writing. It's also a place for you to find inspiration for writing the words inside of you. I invite you into my world of writing as I capture the whispers from the ridge. Follow by Email
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