Thoughts

When I was asked where I want to put my treasures I was shown a metal safe and a beautiful vase I thought the safe drab, and so chose the vase I was proud, indeed, and showed this to all who’d look Then, a stumble thrust the vase high Down it came, and shattered I was cut, so cut that I could little move All the beauty of that vase was now but shards of memory I noticed among the treasures, those treasures laid bare Something I had forgotten I’d added It was a toy I’d stolen as a kid and tucked away below all else For I did not want to remember it, though I dare not throw it out I picked it up for the first time in decades Studied its dirty, broken exterior Paint marred from years of rust And thrust it down in disgust Just then an old man walked near “Say, young man,” said he, “how much for the broken car?” Why, I asked, would he want it? “It reminds me of my own car, years ago.” He removed from his coat pocket a car, polished and clean “It looks like you had ...

The captain groaned a sour note When once he spied the dreadful news His rudder on the sea afloat Its bearing did his ship now lose Adrift, the skipper raised his hands His face fell drained of every hue For nowhere could he spy safe lands Nor compass tell if north was true From peace a sudden squall began That darkened ship and sea the same With clouds’ descent to shroud that man Obscuring more his eyes and frame With hope but gone, he dropped to knees To pray that ground would graze the ship His tears mixed with the rain and freeze  At once they wet his quivered lip The calm had fled, the silence gone There little hope for light or dawn But in that dread the whisper spoke The words like warmth wrapped as a cloak While countless signs said all was lost Still there he rose to face the cost The tempest churned and tossed the craft Though planted still he mocked and laughed For what is fear but hope adrift The downcast face that fails to lift But brave a...

All the world said to me I was naught but a pawn That was hanged between index and ring But from all of my dreams I still woke with a yawn And believed I could make myself king Then when after a stroke that had earned me some rank I was told I could now be a knight I was told, though my place was still humble and frank, At least now I could enter the fight Then when more social place did I earn through my deeds It was said I could then be a rook I looked down at myself and repeated the creeds That I’d found in a chess player’s book By the end of the game, though the battle was done, I now king, though my army was gone, I turned ‘round and in shock, for I thought I had won, I faced mate by a servile pawn. This poem communicates what can happen when we strive to earn acceptance from others through social standing.

I’m on the other side now When I look back, I see How deep was that precipice That chasm that I thought was so shallow, So ephemeral, while I traveled through it, Was more real than anything that came before I can turn back if I want, The sirens of lost love are calling, Always calling, Drawing me back to change the past If they had their way, I’d stay there forever Unlike Odysseus, I don’t close my ears, For I need to hear what they’re saying Just to know that the leaving was indeed my choice I can keep walking forward, For my steps are my own this time I walk in my own strength, Or so it seems For what strength I see is mine Is indeed his And I learn That I’m never meant to be alone.

My social studies students and I are studying Islam right now. The other day, we were reading about one of the Five Pillars, zakat (charity in Islam that means "that which purifies"). Muslims believe that giving away money helps to purify it and also "safeguards [them] against miserliness" (1). I asked the class if this was true, that giving money away makes us less greedy. They generally agreed that it does. I wanted to test whether or not they really believed this, so I handed a volunteer a $10 bill. I told the class that I would ask for the bill back the next day. I said that they should pass the bill around among their classmates, and that as a result, there would be no way for me to know who had the bill. For that reason, whoever wanted to keep the money could keep it. Even if I did learn who kept it, I told them, I would not punish that person. I wanted them to be motivated by their own honesty. The next day, I asked for the bill, and a student handed it to me...

There are things I want to hear, And there are things that are true; The voices I want to hear Are the ones I’m list’ning to But a mind that’s been tuned To a far purer spell Distills out the false And brings light to what’s well   The voice that’s now heard May still not be that loud But the heart tuned to hear Will it find from the crowd.

This is kind of a silly story with a message. It's not really serious, but it does have a serious ending. Junkster was a man who thought he had it all. He owned sports cars, a mansion in the most exclusive part of the most exclusive city, held the highest position in his company, and had married his high school sweetheart. Junkster would get up in the morning, look in the mirror, and tell himself, “Yes, you are the man.” However, deep inside, Junkster was sad. He wondered why he felt this way since he had everything he’d ever wanted. Then, one day, he learned the source of his sadness. While Junkster was preparing to sail across the bay in his hundred-foot yacht, a fairy fluttered from the sky to deliver a message. “Junkster, you have had great success in this life, but you are missing one thing.” Eyes wide, Junkster’s attention was rapt as he gazed on this mythical creature who would tell him about the secret things in his soul. “Yes, your life has lacked just one th...