July 16: "Flock," Son and Niece, Natural Poets

Billy Collins is my shepherd . . . 

Flock

by: Billy Collins

It has been calculated that each copy of the

Gutenburg Bible . . . required the skins of 300 sheep.

     --from an article on printing

I can see them squeezed into the holding pen

behind the stone building

where the printing press is housed,

all of them squirming around

to find a little room

and looking so much alike

it would be nearly impossible

to count them,

and there is no telling

which one will carry the news

that the Lord is a shepherd,

one of the few things they already know.

I love obscure facts like the one Collins uses in this poem.  I frequently do the same.  One of the poems in my new manuscript is titled "Chipmunks See in Slow Motion."  Poetry helps me understand life in different ways, through different lenses.  These facts aid in that endeavor.

I spent most of today driving my son and niece to different places.  We started early in the morning by climbing Sugarloaf Mountain and having breakfast at its summit, Lake Superior on one side of us, unbroken forestland on the other.  We picked blueberries, took pictures.  I was pretty proud of myself for keeping up with the young'uns until the last incline I had to descend into the parking lot.  Fell on my knees and hands hard, but did not require a trip to the ER.

Then we traveled to a local attraction called Lakenenland that features outdoor metal sculptures by a local artist.  Dinosaurs.  Bigfoot.  Giant insects.  A rock concert (heavy metal, no doubt).  Again, we moseyed through the displays, took pictures.  No injuries to report.

Lastly, we drove to Presque Isle on Lake Superior.  My two charges went wading and rock hunting.  My niece wanted to jump off a particular cliff into the lake.  However, due to some flooding because of heavy rains last night, the road was temporarily closed.  Again, no injuries to report.

After a couple bubble teas, I brought them home, and I think they both took long naps.  (I did wake these teenagers up at 6 a.m., mind you.)  Tomorrow, we drive to Munising for a little Pictured Rocks boat ride, if the weather cooperates.  It's supposed to rain and be a little windy.

I love being with young people.  They allow me to see the world through different lenses, as well, because they are natural poets, unjaded and curious.  My son and niece have most of their lives ahead of them.  Everything they encounter is new and exciting.  Which makes me see everything as new and exciting again.  

Saint Marty is going to take some ibuprofen and watch a movie now.  Something he's seen before--because there's something to be said for old and comforting.