A Poem for My Mother: Hope by Janet Wong

It’s been a difficult and emotionally draining week for me. I lost track of time. I actually thought it was Thursday when I awoke this morning.

I’m dedicating this post to my dear mother–who is going through an extremely difficult period in her life. She has been the best of mothers. I learned from her what being a mother is all about. She is the most selfless person I have ever known.

My Mother with One of Her Great Grandsons

When I realized what day it was, I began to wonder what I could post for this Poetry Friday. I didn’t have to think long. I went to the shelf where I keep my friend Janet Wong’s book The Rainbow Hand: Poems About Mothers and Children. Following is the final poem in Janet’s award-winning poetry collection.

Hope
by Janet Wong

In my own mother
I can see

I will need the strength of a bear,
strength to threaten those who would hurt my child—

Give me this strength.

I will need the softness of a deer,
to nudge my child down the right path—

Give me this softness.

I will need the courage of a fox
to leave my child behind, drawing harm my way—

Give me this courage.

I will need the calm of a tree,
knowing fires will happen,

and I will need to keep the hope I hold inside myself,
knowing that after the fires,

things grow again.

The Rainbow Hand received a Lee Bennett Hopkins Poetry Honor Award in 2000.
You can find out more about the book here: http://www.janetwong.com/books/therainbowhand.cfm

My Daughter Sara and Me

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Diane has the Poetry Friday Roundup at Random Noodling.

Happy Mother’s Day!!!!!

A Personal Tale about Poetry & A Poem

Last spring, I was sitting with Grace Lin and Janet Wong at Grace’s condo one afternoon talking about poetry. Both ladies had asked me to bring along some of the poetry collections that I was writing/had completed. They planned to read my work and give me advice. One of the collections we spent most of the time discussing was the one with animal mask poems that I had been working on for a few years. They liked the poems—but felt that maybe the concept wasn’t fresh enough. Then, Janet and Grace got an idea when they read the pterodactyl poem. They thought that maybe THAT poem could be the springboard for a book about fossils and extinct animals.

Here's a picture of me with my trusted advisers--Janet and Grace:

We brainstormed ideas and subjects for poems. I took notes and made a list. I went home that day and got to work. I pulled all the nonfiction books I had about dinosaurs off my library shelves. I did research on the Internet. I bought a bunch of books about prehistoric animals. I put my nose to the grindstone. The great thing about working on this “new” project is how much I’ve learned.

Here’s something interesting: After I had completed over a dozen poems for this collection, I sent them off via email to Grace and Janet for their feedback. One of the two poems that Janet thought wasn’t as strong as the others in the manuscript was the pterodactyl poem that had been the seed for the whole concept for the collection. I think that's pretty funny. So...I'm eliminating that poem from the collection--but I'll post it here for you.

Here’s the pterodactyl mask poem:

I’m pterodactyl. I’m extinct.
I’m just a fossil now…
A relic of Earth’s ancient past.
I wish that I knew how
To break these rocky bonds
Which keep me trapped in days of yore
So I can flap my stony wings
And fly again once more.

One of the poems I did decide to include in the collection is T. Rex: A Glutton for Punishment, which I wrote about twenty years ago. I made a few changes to it. (I posted the poem without the changes at Blue Rose Girls previously.) Here it is:

T. Rex: A Glutton for Punishment

Oh! T. Rex was a greedy beast.
Each and every day he’d feast
On steamy stegosaurus stew,
Toasted pterodactyl, two
Tons of brontosaurus steak
And slurp up nearly half a lake
With all its prehistoric fishes—
Which he considered most delicious.
No vegetarian dinosaur,
He ate his brother’s posterior.
Digestive track on overload,
And belly bulging, T. Rex strode.
He searched the forest, thunder-toed,
For allosaurus a la mode
With heaps of whipped triceratopping,
Which he gobbled up. Then flopping
Down beneath a tree to rest,
Groaned and moaned and beat his chest.
He had to pause and take a break
Because he had a tummy ache.

NOTE: It is so wonderful having friends like Grace and Janet who are ALWAYS ready and willing to give me advice about my work when I ask for it. Thanks, ladies!!!