Poet's Corner: Every day as a wide field, every page by Naomi Shihab Nye

Every day as a wide field, every page by Naomi Shihab Nye

1

Standing outside
staring at a tree
gentles our eyes

We cheer
to see fireflies
winking again

Where have our friends been
all the long hours?
Minds stretching

beyond the field
become
their own skies

Windows doors
grow more
important

Look through a word
swing that sentence
wide open

Kneeling outside
to find
sturdy green

glistening blossoms
under the breeze
that carries us silently

2

And there were so many more poems to read!
Countless friends to listen to.
We didn’t have to be in the same room—
the great modern magic.
Everywhere together now.
Even scared together now
from all points of the globe
which lessened it somehow.
Hopeful together too, exchanging
winks in the dark, the little lights blinking.
When your hope shrinks
you might feel the hope of
someone far away lifting you up.
Hope is the thing ...
Hope was always the thing!
What else did we give each other
from such distances?
Breath of syllables,
sing to me from your balcony
please! Befriend me
in the deep space.
When you paused for a poem
it could reshape the day
you had just been living.

My Poem: Forms: Abecedarian: Gen

Title: Forms
Poetic Form: Abecedarian
Rating: Gen
Length: 234

ars poetica, it’s just what a poem is
blues stanza, for when the day takes more than it gives
clerihew, a name which rhymes and chimes like Saint Paul’s
doggerel, the dross when it’s flushed from Muse’s stalls
epitaph, a closing statement written in stone
found poems, when arranged, make more known of the known
ghazal, an Arabic ode sweetly twined in pairs
haiku, a Japanese set which cuts as it bares
Italian sonnet, cries ‘father’ twice ere the turn
jue ju, from a terse Chinese wick lights a bright burn
kennings poem, which never calls a spade a spade
limericks, skip along in amusing parade
morningsong, the lyrical croon of the lark
nonsense poem, obbledy, cobbledy, glob nark
ode, much like ice cream, comes in many different flavours
pantoum, double braid with refrain the ear savours
quantern, a birdsong trill which echoes through four boughs
rispetto, bestowing respect as verse allows
sestina, at sixes, not sevens, and a three
terza rima, its rhymes frog-jumping happily
utterance, the unanchored and the emotive
villanelle, which cants like a flickering votive
waka, verse in Japanese, tanka in tomes
xenolith, a pair which fit like the teeths of combs
ya-du, a Burmese quintain painting time of year
zejel, a Moorish heirloom, passed from then to here

poetry, for every land, space, and sea, in every season
poetry, from A to Z, with (and without) rhyme and reason