"When will you be home?" she asks...
We both know we have no clear answer to where my dreams may lead.
She's watched me as i crawled and stumbled,
As a child, she was my world.
And now to let me go, I know she bleeds and yet
she says to me-
You can fly so high
Keep your gaze upon the sky
I'll be prayin every step along the way
Even though it breaks my heart to know we'll be so far apart
I love you too much to make you stay
Baby fly away...

fly away by corrinne may



faithful waiting...
for granny...

you lean across the window to watch for rain
each faithful wait, love's faithful waiting
beyond word, beyond creed,
beyond memory-

a child coming home while you sat waiting
your frail hands threading my torn sleeve
or sorting the greens,
your heart waiting
your prayer holding out the rain.

returning a poem

we never knew how it is to be silent- a day's monochrome shades
intermittently hit
by droplets of noontime's intellectual strain.
we traversed many seasons of laughter and wonder, still tired,
and kept abit of time to question why birds seem to know their way home,
at nightfall.

you teased and blamed me for making you think.
i smiled in understanding,
grateful that you never once thought
how peaceful i slept that evening,
lulled by what the sky sang, signing in sunlines
on canvas-white
the mystery of our vocation, and what it all means
against our wild and precious lives.
















many thanks for the meals & journeys we shared - class 0f 2003 (02A05) and
class of 2004 (03A04 & lit group)

Harvest Home
bettye t. spinner

In the ideal
it is a harvesting,
this work we do-
.......................

In the ideal
our classrooms fill, like...
life stories, heaped among the texts,
spill into the hallway of our schools,
crowd the sidewalks or the subways
or ride yellow buses home,
altering the form of knowing,
changing heads,
changing hearts
changing history,
bringing harvest
home.

-homeward bound: class of 2000-2001 (oos14 & oos22), 2001-2002 (01A01)...

women in life

they were there when i required some quiet to still an ego that was harsh on itself, adding names, helping to name the restless silence i mistook for peace. anchors of soul, carers at heart giving in ways which only women can give... some understanding, an appeal to honesty, and courage to shatter illusions i've only began to recognise. they point to horizons i refused to gaze further and led me to deeper courage to recapture myself and what i stand and live for.

there comes a point when we need to walk bravely, away from living an
incomplete life to one of wholeness, in daring to uproot false dreams and hold out to an open rain, we journey wayward, bare in spirit but faithful to the road, in every step reclaiming our first call, to be people of soul and spirit- keen observers of movements in the heart.

to kim (the wry look that was cast on me and clifford was classic!), helena, lai kuan, carol and sandra... i'm thankful our paths crossed along the busy byways of our lives.