student quotes

I've been subbing at the same middle school relatively often these days. . . During my first day with one of these classes, after I'd been talking for a bit, one of the girls asked me if I was a flight attendant...
because

"you sound like a flight attendant," she answered to my "why?"

:D I had to crush her hopes.  sad day.

oda a la paloma (see Solomon's letters - ch. 2)

***************************************************por Amanda E. Johnson  12/4/2010


i am a dove:
fragile, pure, silent.

no one can see me where i hide
(hiding in the cracks, on the unseen ledges-
ledges so high off the ground
no evil can find me)
and i feel safe.

everything outside my little home
(on the other side of my cliff)
is frightening,
frightens me
and keeps me inside
safe, and warm.

i venture out for food
(very briefly, but oh, so hungry am i)
and a bit of fresh air.
satiated,
i arrive back in my crevice,
safe.
nothing can harm me if i do not move
and nothing can make me move
from the safest place in the world.


***
something startles me
(it is not quiet any more)
and i begin to shiver
quietly, though
i shiver quietly  and listen
with trepidation
for whatever has broken my solitude.

a knocking
and a voice
gently, gently rapping
on the outside of my haven.

i take a curious step
(toward the entrance of my dwelling)
and am startled when a flash
(of rainbow color)
strikes my eye
and i look downward to see its origin-
caught by the sun, a bright diamond
with so many facets
has attached itself to my breast.

the knocking continues.
as i take another step closer
(closer to the outside world)
several more flashing jewels
appear on my soft feathers,
encrusting them with beauty.

by the time I reach the ledge
i am covered
(not a single feather is left on its own)
in jewels so bright that rainbows dance
with every step i take.

i can finally hear the words
(an not just knocking)
as they are being spoken -
a man is speaking,
with gentle tones and a soft voice.

"come out,"
says he.
"it's beautiful out here.
there is no more winter,
no more rain,
no harsh winds to buffet you.
(it is spring,
after all - everything is so very new!)
Come out,
my darling,
my love.

let me see your face,
for it has been hidden so long.

let me hear your voice:
i am sure it is the one i have always heard in my dreams.

come out, my love.

let me see you,
let me hear you,
and come with me.

come out."

with each loving word spoken
i barely notice what happens next:

a hand comes closer
(and closer)
and pauses at the very edge of the cliff.

when he stops talking
i look up,
up,
(up into his face)
and see the truth of his words
is true.

one more step -
no, two -
and i am in his palm,
sparkling, quivering and timid.

"behold, you are beautiful,
so beautiful,
my love!"
(his voice echoes
through my hollow bones
and the shaking stops.)

i realize he has spoken the truth,
and spoken my beauty into existence.

calmly,
quietly,
i rest in his hand,
listening for his voice,
awakened by beauty-
of the spring,
of new life,
of a love so true,
and of my own newly discovered beauty,
for the first time in my life
i begin to sing.