The View From Here

 

Bella Vista

What a beautiful view it is

here at the top of the world

where our history began, where our future is waiting

 

Take a moment and take it all in,

from the outside

these vast rolling hills,

this magnificent view changed in the moment, right before our eyes

It’s so hard to imagine what once was when we roll back the years

Can you picture it? These hills that we call ours, belonged to someone else, long ago

The land calls out a litany of names Bernal, Norris, Fallon, Fremont, Vallejo, Harlan, Amador, Dougherty,

Trailblazers all

 

 

 

They claimed this valley floor that we call home,

a settlement at the crossroads of time and history built in this wild open space where we now stand, ready to call it our own

Our San Ramon Valley, Our Beautiful View

 

Take a moment and take it all in

from the inside

walk through the hallways

take in the power of unleashed potential that resides here

in the hearts and the minds of the students and teachers

who will call this site their home away from home

surrounded by care-givers, lovers of learning

sharing words that matter and deeds that encourage

 

Today is a day to celebrate and commemorate

and dedicate this place in the hills,

this magnificent future built on our dreams for our children so they can learn and play and laugh and grow strong and know that everything old is new once again

here in San Ramon Valley,

Our Bella Vista, Our Beautiful View

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Instead

insteadLord knows, I should be working. I brought home boxes of things that have to be sorted, organized, input. I have 9 essays to read and comment upon. A speech Monday, then a poem. A class Thursday. And school starts for real this week.

But here I am, sitting in the yard, reading the advanced reader copy of Amy’s new book. Drinking tea. Feeding the birds. Smelling the roses.

Glorious Saturday. Why should I be inside, bent over the computer, wishing I could be relaxing in the sun? Why should I be anywhere but here?

 

 

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Lasting Legacy

Today we gather in this beautiful park

in a city of parks

grown among the hills and trails

and the life of a grateful community

to remember the heart and the soul of a city pioneer,

the one and the only Byron Athan

 

It’s said that he built his life here as he built his tennis game

starting with love

played with grace and passion

served with promise and conviction

and the ideals of fairness and fun

 

This man of action, always in motion

so committed to city and country, family and friends

left a lasting legacy

here

where his spirit lives on

honored

commemorated

forever remembered, celebrated in stone

byron athan

 

 

(Public art created by Madeline Wiener)

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Junebird

junebird photo

I bought a green glass bird feeder. Hung it in the backyard to honor birdmanmac, my complicated dad. Filled it with songbird seed. And waited.  Checked it everyday until at last a spider spun a web across the surface. Brushed it away, waited more.

On the first anniversary of the day he died, a small miracle. A lone chickadee darted from leafy overhang to steal a seed. Quick quick, back and forth.  A test, a testament, while the feeder danced and spun. Safe. Called to his birdkin.

Today a banditry of birds sings among the treetops for me. For him.

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Time Travel

Strapped into a metal cylinder

Hurtling across the sky

Through blue and cloud and nothingness

Thoughts drift future forward

Till with a jolt we land

 

Thrust into this space

Where every thing is newness

Familiar still

Shadows of the past

Grow distant

Memories of other days

Blur into

This here and now

This moment, this present

 

Until once again we fly

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A Literary Prayer (with a nod to Irish Writer Samuel Beckett who made famous the literary truism that all poetry is prayer)

We are thought leaders

in the library space

This space to Inquire

                                    Imagine

                                                      Innovate

                                                                        Inspire

A place where words take wing

when we commit to the power of 10

building a culture of digital literacy and citizenship

and 38,000 reasons why

school libraries are a civil right

 

And so we must lead brave to

                                    Connect

                                               Curate

                                                       Create

                                                               Care

Our faith is in the future

of future-ready stories

without limits

without walls

without end,

Amen.

~found poem, sourced from notes at Lilead Fellows meeting, Columbus, Ohio, November 2015

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Turning Point

 

Once upon a lifetime ago

You breathed your way into the world

Beginning the story that is your life

 

Through moments and days and months and years

Every weird and wondrous and wicked thing you’ve seen

Everything you’ve heard, and felt, and read, and done

All of this has been added line by line by line to the story of you

And every line has led you to here, this moment, this now

 

Today marks the end –

the riveting end of the chapter titled The Formative Years

A cliffhanger ending perhaps…

What will happen when you turn the page?

 

Make this new chapter worthy of being read

It’s time to put pen to page and write what happens next

 

Make sure when you do that you know the secret of all good writers.

First drafts are messy.

Revision is powerful. And necessary.

Even the most carefully edited manuscript always has a typo or two.

Always

To be believable, the main character will have flaws

And adversity

And triumphs

Love and loss

A life story

Your story

 

Tonight the page is turning

The new chapter beginning

So write life large and in permanent marker

Get busy

The world needs your story

The world is waiting for you

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Haiku Filibuster

This summer’s day stand
Is not selling lemonade
words not guns, our plea

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Dedication

 

Every year we gather

To remember for one day

The lives of those who are no more

The lives of those who once

were dedicated to the truth that all men are created equal

that life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness are common goals

Goals worth fighting for

Goals worth dying for

if and when we’re called to serve

 

Today we hear the bagpipe, mournful

We see the dancers joyful, reverential

And we remember the space between the joy and the sorrow

Reminding us of the dedication it takes

to live a life of grace and good

A life worth fighting for

A life worth dying for

 

We witness shafts of light through the trees

A soft wind kicking up

And we bless the wind, the invisible wind

Telling us to look up, look up, always look up

To see the beauty

And the glory

And the vibrant spirit that blows through all of us

Reminding us to grow still a moment so that we might celebrate

This life we share together, here and now

.

 

 

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May Day

Today’s walk

littered with

last night’s windstorm

brittle branches

broken, orphaned here along the pavement

helplessly still

this still May morning

 

Across my vision like

a silent movie, a slow moving dreamscape

doe in flight, scattered heaps, swoop of wings

 

Once we carried buds to Mary

twirled around her maypole arms

Once you brought me tiny flowers

promising a lifetime still,

life unfolding, hour by hour

day by day, May by May

 

 

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