Fred and Lucille Clifton
_________
the death of fred clifton – Lucille Clifton
11/10/84
age 49
i seemed to be drawn
to the center of myself
leaving the edges of me
in the hands of my wife
and i saw with the most amazing
clarity
so that i had not eyes but
sight,
and, rising and turning,
through my skin,
there was all around not the
shapes of things
but oh, at last, the things
themselves.
Reflective writing prompt: Write about a time of clarity
Forsaken Sea – Sekou Sundiata
Always go in low tide
High tide comes
Always go in low tide
High tide comes
We always go it seems
We always go to the ocean
We always go to the ocean at low tide.
We could walk
We could walk deep
We could walk deep into the sea and never be
in over our heads.
We do not believe
We do not believe
We do not believe
that drowning is for us.
High tide comes out of the water the same way
for the last billion years.
There is nothing new.
We know when to swim, and when to wait.
We know when to swim, and when to wait.
The waves come in and go back out
For the last billion years
The ocean still emotional
Singing in our ears
Always go in
Always go in low tide, high tide comes
Always go in low tide, high tide comes
High tide comes out of the water the same way for the last billion years.
There is nothing new.
We know when to swim and when to wait.
In the car
In the car the road
In the car the road murmurs beneath the wheels
The ocean, so emotional, in our ears.
We seek without looking
The smallest token, passes and settles
into what music is about, music is about.
You could say
You could say we are dancing
And from this one thing we know 10 things
From this one thing we know 10 things
We always go in low tide
When high tide comes
We always go to the ocean
We always go to the ocean at low tide.
We see without looking at the music the water makes
We know when to swim and we know when to wait
We always go in low tide, high tide comes
Always go at low tide, high tide comes
We do not believe
We do not believe
We do not believe
We do not believe
That drowning is for us.
High tide comes out of the water
The same way for the last billion years.
Yes, you could say, you could say we are dancing
And from this one thing, we know 10 things.
We always go in low tide
High tide comes.
Reflective writing prompt: We do not believe…..
Winter Solstice by Hilda Morley
A cold night crosses
our path
The world appears
very large, very
round now extending
far as the moon does
It is from
the moon this cold travels
It is
the light of the moon that causes
this night reflecting distance in its own
light so coldly
(from one side of
the earth to the other)
It is the length of this coldness
It is the long distance
between two points which are
not in a line now
not a
straightness (however
straight) but a curve only,
silver that is a rock reflecting
not metal
but a rock accepting
distance
(a scream in silence
where between the two
points what touches
is a curve around the world
(the dance unmoving).
new york, 1969
Reflective writing prompt: Write about the light of the moon.
Life While-You-Wait by Wislawa Symborska
Life While-You-Wait.
Performance without rehearsal.
Body without alterations.
Head without premeditation.
I know nothing of the role I play.
I only know it’s mine. I can’t exchange it.
I have to guess on the spot
just what this play’s all about.
Ill-prepared for the privilege of living,
I can barely keep up with the pace that the action demands.
I improvise, although I loathe improvisation.
I trip at every step over my own ignorance.
I can’t conceal my hayseed manners.
My instincts are for happy histrionics.
Stage fright makes excuses for me, which humiliates me more. Extenuating circumstances strike me as cruel.
Words and impulses you can’t take back,
stars you’ll never get counted,
your character like a raincoat you button on the run —
the pitiful results of all this unexpectedness.
If only I could just rehearse one Wednesday in advance,
or repeat a single Thursday that has passed!
But here comes Friday with a script I haven’t seen.
Is it fair, I ask
(my voice a little hoarse, since I couldn’t even clear my throat offstage).
You’d be wrong to think that it’s just a slapdash quiz taken in makeshift accommodations. Oh no.
I’m standing on the set and I see how strong it is.
The props are surprisingly precise.
The machine rotating the stage has been around even longer. The farthest galaxies have been turned on.
Oh no, there’s no question, this must be the premiere.
And whatever I do
will become forever what I’ve done.
Reflective writing prompt: Write about waiting, or, Write about a time you had to improvise
When Giving is All We Have – Alberto Rios
One river gives
Its journey to the next.
We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.
We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.
We have been better for it.
We have been wounded by it-
Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.
Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:
Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.
You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me
What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give-together, we made
Something greater from the difference.
Reflective Writing Prompt: We give because…
Uncertain times indeed! A time when institutions seem to be wearing out but with nothing new to replace them. We’ve been here before.
_________
You’re invited to read and respond to these two offerings from 1919 and Ecclesiastes 1. You will find “there is nothing new under the sun.”
ECCLESIASTES 1
The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem:
“Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”
What do people gain from all their labors
at which they toil under the sun?
Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them.
Kintsugi – “Golden Repair” (Japanese)
Reflective Writing Prompt:
Write about being healed, or, write about a time you practiced Kintsugi in your life.
Truth and Reconciliation
– by Ronna Bloom
Our country chose a middle way
of individual amnesty for truth.
– Archbishop Desmond Tutu
This man knows something
about healing. That the heart
must be torn open again
in front of compassionate witnesses.
That the accused must also step up
and reveal themself.
That no matter how high-pitched
the shrieks, how barren
the voice, everything must be
heard, everything must be
held, in the same room.
Reflective writing prompt:
Write about a middle way.
This Damn House by Tim Dotson
I’m so tired of being in this house
I don’t know what I’m gon do
Staying home and social distancing
Let’s me know
The person you can’t escape is you
There I am in the kitchen
Eating up all the snacks
Here I am in the living room
On Zoom
getting video bombed by my cats
There I go in the bedroom
On my sixth season of the same show
I’m scared to have company
…Cause uh …you know
I wash the car and cut the yard
Anything to go outside
Call people I haven’t seen in years
Anything to socialize
I don’t know if I’m more afraid of being a victim or a suspect
As I hide behind my mask
But i vow to do my part to put this time in the past
Sending love to the people considered essential
All the front line healthcare workers
Your bravery and self sacrifice
Is so monumental
To all the lives lost to this tragic disease
Strength to all remaining friends and family
No time to split ourselves into sections
We have one chance to get it right
Humanity needs us to unite
This is…the fight for our life
Tim Dotson is a Standardized/Simulated Patient Trainer
The University of Tennessee Health Science Center
Center for Healthcare Improvement and Patient Simulation (CHIPS)
Memphis, TN 38163