One day, a few years back, Seth and Rebekah asked to go to the creek and “do school later”. I said they could go, paper and pencil in hand, and to bring back something they’d written–a story, a thought, a drawing, poetry.
Here is Seth’s offering:
I have a cathedral of willows over my head
The sound of the creek in my ears,
A hoodie under my back.
I will try not to fall in the creek.
All this comfort, all this wonder,
I’ve claimed a little nook.
Yet all the while I wish I’d brought a book.
Rebekah wrote me a love letter, and some of her thoughts, as well as this “Spring Poem”:
The creek laughs happily over stones
I hear birdsong and breezes.
But something else is talking –
Tis neither wind nor birdsong nor the creek.
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