Ying and the Magic Turtle
Ying and the Magic Turtle is a story book that invites readers to experience mathematics, problems solving, and the rewards that come with perseverance. Children ages five and up, parents, and teachers can enjoy the book for its rich beauty in mathematics and as an ancient legend.
Under the Light, yet under
(more…)Under the Light, yet under,
Under the Grass and the Dirt,
Under the Beetle’s Cellar
Under the Clover’s Root,Further than Arm could stretch
Were it Giant long,
Further than Sunshine could
Were the Day Year long,Over the Light, yet over,
Over the Arc of the Bird —
Over the Comet’s chimney —
Over the Cubit’s Head,Further than Guess can gallop
Further than Riddle ride —
Oh for a Disc to the Distance
Between Ourselves and the Dead!
The Hill We Climb
The debut poetry collection on hope and healing by inaugural National Youth Poet Laureate Amanda Gorman, including the poem of the same title that she recited at the Biden Inauguration.
(more…)When day comes we ask ourselves, where can we find light in this never-ending shade? The loss we carry, a sea we must wade. We’ve braved the belly of the beast, we’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace and the norms and notions of what just is, isn’t always justice. And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it, somehow we do it, somehow we’ve weathered and witnessed a nation that isn’t broken but simply unfinished.
We, the successors of a country and a time where a skinny black girl descended from slaves and raised by a single mother can dream of becoming president only to find herself reciting for one. And, yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect, we are striving to forge a union with purpose, to compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man.
So we lift our gazes not to what stands between us, but what stands before us. We close the divide because we know to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside. We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another, we seek harm to none and harmony for all.
Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true: that even as we grieved, we grew, even as we hurt, we hoped, that even as we tired, we tried, that we’ll forever be tied together victorious, not because we will never again know defeat but because we will never again sow division.
Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one should make them afraid. If we’re to live up to our own time, then victory won’t lie in the blade, but in in all of the bridges we’ve made.
That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb if only we dare it because being American is more than a pride we inherit, it’s the past we step into and how we repair it. We’ve seen a force that would shatter our nation rather than share it. That would destroy our country if it meant delaying democracy, and this effort very nearly succeeded. But while democracy can periodically be delayed, but it can never be permanently defeated.
In this truth, in this faith, we trust, for while we have our eyes on the future, history has its eyes on us, this is the era of just redemption we feared in its inception we did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour but within it we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves, so while once we asked how can we possibly prevail over catastrophe, now we assert how could catastrophe possibly prevail over us.
We will not march back to what was but move to what shall be, a country that is bruised but whole, benevolent but bold, fierce and free, we will not be turned around or interrupted by intimidation because we know our inaction and inertia will be the inheritance of the next generation, our blunders become their burden. But one thing is certain: if we merge mercy with might and might with right, then love becomes our legacy and change our children’s birthright.
So let us leave behind a country better than the one we were left, with every breath from my bronze, pounded chest, we will raise this wounded world into a wondrous one, we will rise from the golden hills of the West, we will rise from the windswept Northeast where our forefathers first realized revolution, we will rise from the lake-rimmed cities of the Midwestern states, we will rise from the sunbaked South, we will rebuild, reconcile, and recover in every known nook of our nation in every corner called our country our people diverse and beautiful will emerge battered and beautiful, when the day comes we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid, the new dawn blooms as we free it, for there is always light if only we’re brave enough to see it, if only we’re brave enough to be it.
Take Care of This House
Here in this shell of a house,
this house that is struggling to be.
falling through the hall,
coming straight through the wall,
is hope staring down at me,
but there’s nothing you can see
sadness will flow down a cheek
courage stand out like a tree
Joy, joy is as bright
as a comet in flight.
but hope isn’t easy to see.
Take Care Of This House
keep it from harm
if bandits break in sound the alarm
Care for this house
shine it by hand
and keep it so clean
the glow can be seen all over the land.
be careful at night,
check all the doors,
if someone makes off with a dream
the dream will be yours.
TAKE CARE OF THIS HOUSE
be always on call
for this house is the home of us all.
Be careful at night
check all the doors
if someone makes off with a dream
the dream will be yours.
TAKE CARE OF THIS HOUSE
be always on call,
for this house its the home of us all.
The Man Worth While
It is easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows by like a song ;
But the man worth while
Is one who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong ;
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with years,
And the smile that is worth
The praises of earth,
Is the smile that shines through tears.It is easy enough to be prudent
When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within
No voice of sin
Are luring your soul away.
But it’s only a negative virtue
Until it is tried by fire ;
And the life that is worth
The honor on earth,
Is the one that resists the desire.
Snowball
(more…)I made myself a snowball
As perfect as could be.
I thought I’d keep it as a pet
And let it sleep with me.
I made it some pajamas
And a pillow for its head.
Then last night it ran away,
But first it wet the bed.
The Road Home
The Road Home
Tell me, where is the road
I can call my own,
That I left, that I lost,
So long ago?
All these years I have wandered,
Oh, when will I know
There’s a way, there’s a road
That will lead me home?
After wind, after rain,
When the dark is done.
As I wake from a dream
In the gold of day,
Through the air there’s a calling
From far away,
There’s a voice I can hear
That will lead me home.
Rise up, follow me,
Come away, is the call,
With the love in your heart
As the only song;
There is no such beauty
As where you belong:
Rise up, follow me,
I will lead you home.
Puppets
German puppets burned the Jews
Jewish puppets did not choose
Puppet vultures eat the dead
Puppet corpses they are fed
Puppet winds and puppet waves
Puppet sailors in their graves
Puppet flower, puppet stem
Puppet time dismantles them
Puppet me and puppet you
Puppet German
Puppet Jew
Puppet Presidents command
Puppet troops to burn the land
Puppet fire, puppet flames
Feed on all the puppet names
Puppet lovers in their bliss
Turn away from all of this
Puppet reader shakes his head
Takes his puppet wife to bed
Puppet me and puppet you
Puppet German, puppet Jew
Puppet Presidents command
Puppet troops to burn the land
Puppet fire, puppet flames
Feed on all the puppet names
Puppet night comes down to play
The after act to puppet day
