Poetry and Art

I often wonder why we adults are so limited in our creative ability and then I look to my four and seven year olds and know the answer. Children have no filter. They breathe in and soak up all that is around them from the largest to the smallest of things without prioritizing or placing emphasis on any one item. A tree or a worm is just as interesting as a rock. They touch, and sometimes taste {to my chagrin}, the things that capture their attention and then log what they’ve found into memory – that rock is smooth, that dirt taste gross, that bark is bumpy, that worm is slimy. It all goes into the memory bank for them to use whenever the mood strikes them. Children are buoyed by the possibility of what's next. Adults are somewhat deflated in their exuberance for revisiting the mundane.

When Jon and I arrived home from our weekend away we were welcomed back into the fold with magnificent handmade paper flowers and two large quilt-like posters containing art and poetry.

Samantha cracks me up. She always manages to include pizza in her art and I love that she equates pizza with our family. We do keep Boboli in the fridge for those nights when there just isn’t time to make a proper dinner, and we go out for pizza quite often too. Yes, she’s got it right. Pizza = our family. It’s actually a turn-around fact, our family = pizza.

My mother said that Alex began making up a poem. She said the poem unraveled so beautifully that she decided to right it down as Alex was reciting it. I’m convinced that Alex’s heart led her to these words and that she, with her infinite cache of memory captured so eloquently the things that she noticed around her. The hot tub... well, I think that was thrown in for effect. HA! Please know that we do not own a hot tub and we’ve never been camping. It just goes to show you that children are very creative. 

Here's the entire poem...

Violets are red.

Pine cones are brown.

The trees are brown.

All around the trees

are very pretty.

When I walk around the trees

all the animals come to see me.

And when I touch the soft,

soft grass it feels so good.

When I hop in the hot tub

in front of the trees

it feels so good.
I am so happy that I am

next to the trees.

Apples are red.

The leaves on the trees change

different colors when they bloom.

The moon is bright when I go

camping and settle in my bed.

I sit around the sandbox close

to the trees and see the birdies fly by.