First Rain

Some say, when creation came, the days were dry,

As creatures from the sea first crawled to land.

The sun beat down and stung each squinting eye,

While vapor rose from trails of wetted sand.

Many were not yet ready to there abide,

Taken by dehydration, life threads waning.

So the sky cried for those who died,

Not knowing its tears would save the ones remaining.

 

This poem is sort of a made-up myth about how rain first came to be. Like most myths, I tried to have it speak to some universal truth or lesson. In this case, the idea is that hope can come out of failure and sadness, and what we learn can help us move forward.

As New Wings Fly

Too young some souls are taken from our sight,

Too soon before the lungs of life have filled,

While we remain, it seems, to question why

Their beating hearts by chance or fate were stilled.

But who am I to say what time is right

Or understand the depths an angel delves?

Though maybe, searching, we, as new wings fly,

Remember what they taught us of ourselves.

 

This poem is about the sad circumstances when we lose those close to us, particularly when that loss happens sooner than we expect. While providing comfort for those remaining is paramount, the poem's words are more focused on thinking about how those people who've been lost might still be with us in some way, helping us to see how to move forward and better ourselves.   

Selfless

Selfless –

Lacking a self,

Without a self –

Is that truly what it means?
Perhaps not exactly,

For when you acted selflessly,

To be one on whom another leans,

That act defined the self you’ve come to be.

 

I thought this one might work well for Mother's Day. It began just by thinking about the word "selfless". If you compare with other words with a similar structure - say, "clueless" or "lifeless" - you might think it means something like "without a self" or "not having a self". But actually, I think it's more about recognizing, valuing, and loving the other "selves" in the world around you - and that becomes a defining feature of who you are. Of course, many parents do this all the time.

Between Two Choices

Caught, perhaps un poco paralyzed,

Across this space perceived as pure potential,

Where either pathway taken

Might bring adventures new and change essential.

A whisper then – “awaken” –

Faintly heard from somewhere up ahead,

Its true direction still disguised,

I step, to see which way my heart has led.

 

 

Just this past week, I made a pretty big decision - I decided to accept an offer from Syracuse University to be a teaching professor there in environmental engineering. I had offers from two schools, and it was an extremely difficult choice. I think both options were good, and I was leaning toward each one at different points in the process. To some extent, it just came down to what felt right in my heart. I wrote this poem a couple days later.