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NATURE POEMS…
By: Solomon Leaman
The Forms of Water
Whether it is a swamp
That is as cold and gloomy
As misty fog on a snowy day.
If it is as boomy
As ocean waves
Crashing near shore.
Was it the rain?
That will just pour and pour,
And build up more and more.
It could also be the running
Of a washing machine.
Could it be the sloshing?
Of a massive waterfall
As the geyser fires,
Or the fog perspires.
Maybe just a lonely oasis
In the middle of nowhere,
Or a mountain spring just sitting there.
A peculiar puddle
In the middle of a city.
Or an empty water bottle,
What a pity!
All of these things big and small,
Are just water overall.
The forms of Land
Look at the glacier
Towering over the Arctic Ocean.
Or a mountain
Powering into the sky.
Or an iceberg
Majestically floating in the freezing waters.
Possibly a plateau
Gloating out of the flat lands.
Look at that trifling anthill
Getting noticed by some kindergarteners.
Or maybe a desert
Where you will find some lotus.
Could it be soggy grasslands?
Filled with dirt.
Maybe a volcano
Erupting with magma.
Can you hear that comes a rockslide interrupting
The sound of a humming bird.
Or freezing tundra
In the middle of an icy land.
Look at the lovely pleasing plain.
OR maybe a forest
Made for the tourist
Nonono it is made for nature from nature
Not for some people that have a pager.
All of these things small and tall,
Are just land overall…
When the Rain Falls
Click,
Clank.
When the rain falls
Young kids cuddle up with their dolls.
Stick out your tongue
And lets the rain slip and
Slide down your lung.
As the you here the sound that is sung
Or the bell that is rung,
We all know that it is raining outside.
So when you hear a pitter or a patter,
Or a smicker
Maybe even a smacker.
Make sure that no one is playing the drums,
Maybe someone could be even dropping crumbs
Stop doing your math sums
Get of your bum!
GO play in the rain
Your parents might think you’re insane.
Clink
Clank
If you listen to this
Be ready for a spank!!!
Show the Nice Side
If you ever see the sun shining
Up above,
Show a little love.
With a dove overhead
And a nice comfy bed,
Be happy that you are alive and not dead.
Yes that is what I said
Feel like you are blessed
Because there are the less fortunate
If you find the coordinate to your heart
Then you have found a part
That is called the nice side.
Some people might have to stay warm
By using bear hide
Maybe because their parents died.
So smile everyday
And feel free to go and play
Because you are an American citizen.
One nation, one people
And show your nice side
And let out all of your pride |
Definition of Aikido Politics
From the Rocky Mountain Institute
By Amory Lovins
“Aikido is a non-violent martial art in which you don’t oppose an attacker by rigid force, but blend with the attacker’s energy helping deflect it harmlessly and harmoniously past you.
Thus, in Aikido politics you honor other beliefs as you would your own, even if you don’t share them.
You remain centered in your values, but not fixed to your position.
You don’t fight with an opponent; rather you dance with a partner.
You’re committed to the process not outcome, in belief that from a good process will emerge a better outcome than anyone thought in the first place.”
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6/03
Tassajara
Please call me by my true names
Thich Nhat Hanh
Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
Because even today I still arrive
Look deeply: I arrive in every second To be a bud on a spring branch, To be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile, Learning to sing in my new nest. To be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, To be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
In order to fear and to hope,
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death of all that are
alive.
I am a may fly metamorphosing on the surface of the river, And I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time to eat the may fly.
I am a frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond, And I am the grass-snake who, approaching in silence, feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, My legs as thin as a bamboo stick, And I am the Arms Merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve year old girl, refugee on a small boat, Who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate, And I am the pirate, in my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands, And I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to my people, Dying slowly in a forced labor camp.
My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all walks of life. My pain is like a river of tears, so full it fills all four oceans.
Please call me by my true names, so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once, So I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names, so I can wake up and so the door of my heart can be left open, the door of compassion.
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