Home Is The state Of my heart: Heart-shaped Ohio. “Ohio, The Heart of It All,” Is more than its slogan, to me. It’s a certainty Born of dappled sunlight, porch swing swishes, marching bands, sure love, and lingering laughter.
In the midst of war (and there is always a war) lies grim misjudging. Fear of difference. Insatiable greed for land. Resolute loathing. Dire false impressions. Grave miscommunications.
And a common moon.
And beneath that moon, in God’s perfect alignment, is home to us all. We’ve food and water (if only we’d gladly share), great plains and mountains, celebrated seas with unfathomably large communal mammals. With microscopic yet astoundingly complex sentient beings. Sands God has numbered stay in place as our home spins, not spilling a drop of the vast waters that both adorn and provide, beautify and quench.
And though we do not tend to her needs (let alone the needs of “others”), God gave us this home brilliantly placed beneath the moon of His choosing, populated with children He chooses to love. (There are no “others.”}
She spent the entire afternoon asking me relevant, insightful questions about the school’s students, staff, and mission. How do you teach babies and preschoolers a second language? What countries do they come from? What languages are spoken? Which is the most common? (She made note of Arabic, and couldn’t wait to ask her mom if she can begin studying it via Rosetta Stone or Duolingo). Would I please contact the volunteer coordinator to see if it is acceptable for a ten-year-old to volunteer to help the adults care for the children? Are masks required? Is there a dress code? Is there a form her parents could complete and sign, giving her permission to volunteer there? Even if they can’t let her volunteer yet, can she take a tour of the school, and meet the staff? Oh, and would I please tell them she is mature for her age?
Eager native sprout seeks to share energy to root and bloom transplants.
We humans tend to look back, often having trouble reconciling the life we live with the life we naively dreamed of in the midst of youth, mulling the likelihood that the land of our reality borders our kingdom of what ifs.
The #waltmarie, created by Candace Kubinec, is a 10-line form of any subject. The even-numbered lines are 2 syllables, and must form their own poem when read separately. The odd-numbered lines are longer, with no syllable count restrictions.
For today’s prompt from Robert Lee Brewer of Poetic Asides, we are asked to write an ekphrastic poem. I used this photo of my Aunt Peg (my Mom’s identical twin sister). It is a double exposure, showing my mom’s smiling face in the face of Aunt Peg. Identical twins do seem a sort of “double exposure” in the first place, don’t they? Love this photo.