Tis a Gift to be Simple, Shaker hymn

‘Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free;
‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be;
And when we find ourselves in the place that's right,
We will be in the valley of Love and Delight.

When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shall not be ashamed;
To turn, turn shall be a delight,
Till by turning, turning we come around right.

***

This song was on a CD of lullabys we had when the kids were babies.

I learned it and sang it to them when I was rocking them to sleep.

It was later replaced by Summertime. 

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

***

This was the first one. I memorized this in the summer of 2016 (is that right?) when I started working at AIT. I took the kids to Camp Snoopy every day before work, drop them off, work 8 hours, pick them up, make the trek home. What a treasure that summer was - the kids saw Gma and Gpa every day. Pool time, adventures, chores. 

I tasked the kids with memorizing a poem. Some were more serious than others about the assignment. Something clicked for me and I wanted more, so I've been on this little journey since then.

The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


***

I used to recite poetry out loud when Eli and I were going for walks together. He surprised me by reciting them with me sometimes. He's listening after all. :) 

Whenever I recite a poem back to myself, this is the first one that pops into my head. Maybe it's the imagery? I picture it so clearly. Sometimes I think of Hidden Valley.

Maybe it's the dissonance. "The passing there had worn them really about the same... I took the one less traveled..." 

And so it's the story we tell ourselves in hindsight. "I shall be telling this with a sigh." I made the right choice after all.

Hope is a Thing with Feathers, by Emily Dickinson

Hope is a thing with feathers

that perches in the soul

and sings the tune without the words

and never stops at all.

Sweetest in the gale is heard

and sore must be the storm

that could abash the little bird

that kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land and on the strangest sea

Yet never, in extremety, it asked a thing of me.

***

When I first started learning this, I was carrying it around on a little slip of paper in my pocket.

I was at the doctor's office with the kids, or maybe just Archer. It was checkup for the doctor to sign off on, a Scout requirement before summer camp. He needed shots, I offered to distract him by telling him the poem. But it wasn't in my brain strong enough, and I blanked. He got the shot without any of my poetry reciting expertise. That was early in the year.

Later that summer, I was in a triathlon. It was my second tri with Mary, but this time I was on my own. Swimming, I made it across the lake. Hopped on the bike. It was probably really hot. Found myself trudging up a hill. It felt so long. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn't. But there I was, chugging away and reciting this to myself with every push of the pedal.

It Comes Unadorned, by Toni Morrison

 It comes unadorned

Like a phrase, strong enough to cast a spell.

It comes unbidden

Like the turn of sun through hills or stars in wheels of song.

The jeweled feet of women dance the earth, arousing it to spring.

Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years.

Profiles breach the distance and lean

Toward an ordinary kiss.

Bliss.

It comes naked into the world like a charm.

***

I learned this poem when I worked at AIT. I used to go for a walk after lunch every day.

I experimented with walking on the street, or in the parking lot behind the building but none of these felt safe and I was constantly in fear of getting hit by a truck. So I settled for walking back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the building. Get to the end, turn around and go back. It felt a little funny at first but then I got over it and everyone who thought I was weird got used to me pacing back and forth. Probably they still thought I was weird but they never said anything.

One day I saw a finch in the doorway of one of the other businesses along that sidewalk. It was barely moving. I don't know if it was injured or tired. The next day it was gone.