On I hear you, I see you

I recently had a slight problem in one of my classes. I emailed my prof about it and never heard anything back. When I asked her about my situation at the next class session, she told me not to worry about it, that it would get resolved. I thanked her but asked if she could reply to my email anyway, "I have been having issues with my messages not being received and I want to make sure my email is working properly." That was a complete lie. My email was working fine...I was just wanted a response. She never did reply to that email, or resolve (so I thought) the issue. So a couple weeks later, I sent another message. People are busy, especially profs, right? It makes sense that one email got overlooked. Still no response after the second email and I'm starting to get upset. I need this problem solved. My third, and slightly more direct (fine rude!) email finally solicited a reply. In reading her message, I found no resolution to my problem, but still I was elated. Despite the fact that she had provided basically no help, I was thrilled to receive a response. Why did this matter to me so much? Apparently (because now I'm completely at ease) I cared more about receiving some kind of acknowledgement than I did resolving the problem. Again, why? The idea that I was not being heard made me extremely uncomfortable. How did you miss my messages? Even a quick reply of "I don't know" would have placated me. When my prof finally did respond, I relaxed and realized how obnoxiously single minded I appeared. I needed that acknowledgement! That, "I hear you, I see you." Is that due to a personal insecurity...or is this a natural thing? I know that there's no perfect analogy, but I feel like this situation has some faith applications. Can you think of somebody else who often has to go without getting acknowledged? Doesn't it just sting a little when you get that, "Wow, now you know how I feel everyday" ? Geez, huh? I hear You, I see You.

On Not as Good as Yesterday

I am slowly losing my integrity
By writing this down in my speech class
Or maybe not
I am kind of focusing
On what is being said
It's weird because I just wrote
Yesterday
If I wrote a poem a day
It wouldn't keep away the doctor
But would you collect them up
And bind them in a book
To await wandering eyes
And curious brains?
My foot just fell asleep
Is that interesting to you?
No?
My foot rests inside a purple Converse shoe
How about now?
Is it necessary that I be
Mesmerizing, mystifying, hauntingly wonderful
For you to really really want my words?
Now my whole leg is asleep
Knock knock
Who's there?
Why, it's Mary Lennox
Back again
"Might I have a bit of earth?"
Golly, I've got a one track mind
But really I hurt for her
She just wants to feel important
How can I help her feel special?
Know that she doesn't have to seek out
These other things
God, help me give her a bit of earth
In my life'
Give her a chance to grow something beautiful
That can be shared
That I can appreciate
Help me, help me, help me
To be patient
And to open up my world
To show love
Because really
My life is good
I am hungry
Ready to leave class and go to lunch
But I like the necklace I'm wearing
And I have a heart
Full of hope

On The Strength of Input

Swing low sweet chariot
Come forth an whisk me away
Because the more I stare at this beautiful globe
The more I feel confined by our planet
By my vocabulary
By gravity
By my perceptions, or worse: yours
I like to think about life, existence, and the essence of humanity
But clearly my cardigan gives that away
It doesn't have to be all introspection
All philosophy
I can give you some attention too
If you are Mary Lennox, asking me, Archibald Craven
For a bit of earth
Evidence that you matter
That you effect the world
I can oblige
Everybody needs a little affirmation
Maybe that's why I like writing letters so much
It's so focused
So personal
So unlike what I'm surrounded by
We miss moments
Moments that could provide clarity
We overlook the beauty and the connectedness of it all
How I am shaped by:
Silly songs and stories created with my grandparents during childhood
My memory of these songs, these moments that I can share when I sing a baby to sleep
The world of literature that activates the mind
And suddenly allows my own happenings to intermingle with every story I've encountered
My brother and sister who are my peers and my children
That now when I visit home, it's a delight to wake up to them
Traditions that are dear, and people that are dear too
The evenings spent in the safety of red Koolaid
The comfort of the bowl of M&Ms
And the joy of each other's company
Nothing is distinct
All comes together in a rush
To some, a picture's worth a thousand words
But to me, a word is worth a thousand memories
The details of eighteen summers, two surprise birthday parties, and countless bowls of chicken noodle soup
Hurricaning in my brain as I wait at the train station
Waiting for a bunch of blue ribbons
Beginning to doubt the promise will be fulfilled
Gripping the bench seat, knowing it's been days
And Johnny's still not back from the fair
I fret and I worry
But then remember
That's it's really okay
Because the romance is in the waiting