There was a part of me that wanted to throw away the tall stacks of old homework papers that were piled in the corner of my office. More than a years worth of two kids schoolwork adds up to a lot of paper cuts and huge pile of recycle. I know I should do this process once a week, or once a month, but I have given into the fact that it happens once every year or two for me. But in the end, there are always one or two nuggets of gold that make it worth it. In between the numbers & graphs, definitions and essays, I find some poetry & prose that give me insight into my growing and ever-changing kids, and occasionally a little insight on life.

Don’t forget to sift & search for life’s hidden treasures.


…I knew about this poem, but I came across it and others, by my daughter and my son, that helped me know them just a little bit better…





          I want to always rise to the                                                                                                

          Challenge. I want to never sit alone.

          I want to learn to talk and be heard.


          I want to watch as the grass grows

          Old and dies. Month after month. Year after year.


          I want to see. If the moon can rise

          Every night, I want the taste

          Of freedom on the tip of my tongue


          I want to touch you, dance with you on

          A cloud made of light. I want to lose myself


          In the labyrinth and rolling waves

          Of your eyes. I want to free myself

          Of hate. I want to be free from the shackles of freedom.


          I want to be free, and free of freedom,

          With its cold irons clasped on your wrists. Its


          Frenzied thoughts, its open plains, and definition

          Tied neatly with a bow. I want to be free of

          Words without meaning and listlessness. My anger,


          My loss and apologies, my doubt.

          If the rain can cleanse the earth


          I want a fresh soul. I want the stones wisdom

          And the earth’s flexibility. I want the lights

          Ubiquity, but not its invisible touch


          I want the reliance of the sun, but not its fury.

          I want the strength of the universe. I want to search


          The rolling hills of elsewhere and find

          You there. I want the tips of your fingers


          In the small of my back. I want to be the tree

          But not the leaves. I do not want to be the grass

          I do not want to be the dew covered spider web,


          Or the spider. When I leave this body

          I want to be sheer power. I want to have a voice.