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A tree is a little bit of the future
Happy Birthday, Wangari Maathai!
Wangari Maathai: The Woman Who Planted Millions of Trees by Franck Prévot
“Trees are living symbols of peace and hope.” -Wangari Maathai, Nobel Peace laureate
A Brave and Startling Truth
by Maya Angelou
We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truthAnd when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palmsWhen we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soilWhen the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breezeWhen we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuseWhen we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsetsNor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the worldWhen we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into aweWe, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divinesWhen we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fearWhen we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.
Loving Vincent
Happy Birthday, Vincent Van Gogh!
The world’s first fully oil painted feature film brings the artwork of Vincent van Gogh to life in an exploration of the complicated life and controversial death of one of history’s most celebrated artists.
Day and Night
After day comes night,
after night comes day.From where can I see
this long, long rope,
its one end, and the other.
Rainbows on Eyelashes
by Misuzu Kaneko
I wipe and wipe
Yet they keep flowing,
Within my tears
A thought arises.-I must be
An adopted child-While I look and look
At the beautiful rainbows,
On the tips of my eyelashes
A thought arises.-I wonder what
Today’s teatime snack will be-
A cloud
by Misuzu Kaneko
I want to be a cloud.
Fluffy, fluffy
From the far end of the blue sky
trying out everything.
In the night, I’ll play tag with Mrs Moon.If I get bored even with that,
I will change into the rain.
Along with Mr Thunder,
I’ll jump and fall into the pond in your house.
A Light exists in Spring
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely hereA Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
