Echoes: Inspired Poetry

A Man Leaves the World
by Naomi Shihab Nye
A man leaves the world
and the streets he lived on,
grow a little shorter.
One more window dark
in this city, the figs on his branches
will soften for birds.
If we stand quietly enough evenings
there grows a whole company of us
standing quietly together.
overhead loud grackles are claiming their trees 
and the sky which sews and sews, tirelessly sewing,
drops her purple hem.
Each thing in its time, in its place,
it would be nice to think the same about people. 
Some people do. They sleep completely,
waking refreshed. Others live in two worlds,
the lost and remembered.
They sleep twice, once for the one who is gone,
once for themselves. They dream thickly,
dream double, they wake from a dream
into another one, they walk the short streets
calling out names, and then they answer.

5

A Baby Enters the World
by Lauren Michelle Kahn
A baby Enters the world.
Cerulean eyes open for the first time.
Eyes,
Bright and attentive,
Animated and curious,
As pure as silver
The baby is new,
Warm from its mother’s side,
Yet no longer reliant on her .
A baby full of dreams and hopes,
Without the slightest bother,
Unacquainted with pain and suffering.
Happy just to be a baby,
Alive in a room full of doctors.
Appreciative,
Captivated by the bright lights and luminous tools.
Nothing is still. Everything is as vibrant as electricity.
A baby enters the world,
Smiling at the blue birds outside the car window,
Giggling as the car passes over holes in the road.
Traveling further away from the hospital,
As the path to her home shortens,
Watching the colors of the sunset smear together as the sun kisses the people with its final rays before it nests in the pink clouds.
The day is ending,
But the baby is only beginning
Beginning an endless journey.

Observer                     

By Naomi Shihab Nye                

I watch how other things travel
to get an idea how I might move.
A cloud sweeps by silently,
gathering other clouds.
A doodlebug curls in his effort to get there.
A horse snorts before stepping forward.
A caterpillar inches across the kitchen floor.
When I carry him outside on a leaf,
I imagine someone doing that to me.
Would I scream?

In the heart of the day
nothing moves.
No one is going anywhere
or coming back.
The blue grass on the table
lets light pass through.
Sometimes shines
but nothing moves.
I watch that too.

Listener

By Lauren Michelle Kahn

I listen to how other things communicate
To learn a new language I might speak.
Crickets hum effortlessly,
To spread their feelings afar.
I sit motionlessly to hear the delicate swish of a butterfly’s wings as they flutter to and fro.
An orange laughs as I peel its belly off,
White chalk shrieks in horror as I drag it across the plain.
My brother mimics this prized sound.
Wind mumbles its melody with passion
As it tantalizes the daffodils making them cringe in embarrassment.
After the moon has devoured the sky for dinner and when the sun is trapped in a blanket of night, all is hushed.
The robins in their nest
Can smell the ripe apples,
Can even feel their seamless skin.
But all is hushed.
I listen to that too.

Song of My Foot

By Naomi Shihab Nye

I sing about my right foot.
I sing about it because
my favorite shoe goes on that foot.
I sing about my right shoe because
it is old and the shoelace is torn.
I sing about my shoelace because
it is stained with dirt and mud.
I sing about dirt and mud
because it is part of this world.

Peppermint Ice Cream

By Lauren Michelle Kahn

I dream of peppermint ice cream.
I dream of it because it makes people smile.
It makes people smile because it tastes fresh.
It tastes fresh because it is made with mint and the ice cream man just made it.
He made it for the winter holidays because
The winter holidays make people smile
Just like peppermint ice cream.