True Poems flee

[barefootsong]

Two small poems today.

The first one I found while browsing the [Poetry Foundation] website for poems earlier this week. It is not a particularly interesting or elegant poem, but it reminded me of someone I knew.

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Don't worry if your job is small,
And your rewards are few.
Remember that the mighty oak,
Was once a nut like you.

       ~ Anonymous

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My cross country coach in high school gave us a ridiculously cheesy speech before an important meet one year, about how we had all been acorns but the next day we had to be "mighty oaks." He even gave each of us our own acorn, and we jokingly used "mighty oaks" as our team cheer the next day. It was a great day for us, though, so despite the cheesyness it was an apt metaphor. I do not think I would be an oak if I were a tree, but I definitely grew a lot in my years on cross country.

I still miss my coach. And I still have my acorn.

*

The next poem is one of my favorites (but not my most favorite).

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To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie —
True Poems flee —

       ~ Emily Dickinson

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I like to think of all the Poems that have fled the confines of pages and go frolicking through the world.