All the Little Poets

I've been listening to Andrew Peterson again lately. Matt likes to make fun of him. He says his voice sounds like Kermit the Frog. Admittedly, his voice does. So I have to smuggle in my Andrew Peterson time while Matt is at work. I don't listen for his voice, I listen for his heart that so often matches mine in this draining world.

It's been years since I last really listened, and I realized that I've missed a lot of beautiful songs. Yesterday I discovered this one:

All the Poets

To all the poets I have known
Who saw the beauty in the commonplace
Saw incarnation in a baby's face
And in a drop of rain, the stars

When there was mud and blood and tears
You sang a song at night to calm our fears
You made a moment last a thousand years
You are the poets I have known

To all the poets I have known
You built a kingdom out of sea and sand
You conquered armies with a marching band
You carved a galaxy in stone

You built an altar out of bread
And spent your soul to see the children fed
You wove your heart in every story read
Thank God for poets I have known

And you keep on dreaming when the dreams all fade
When friends desert me, you're the ones who stayed
To write the prayers when every prayer had been prayed
You are the poets I have known

You turned your tears into a string of pearls
You held your sorrow high to light the world
When I thought I was alone

In every man you saw the boy
The hidden heart the dark could not destroy
Slipped past the dragons with a tale of joy
Thank God for poets I have known

And you keep on dreaming when the dreams all fade
When friends desert me, you're the ones who stayed
To write the prayers when every prayer had been prayed

You walking wounded of my life
Who bled compassion in the heat of strife
You stood between my heart and Satan's knife
With just the armor of a song

You are the heroes and the brave
Who with a slender pen our passions save
And chisel epitaphs upon the graves
Of all the poets I have known

So keep on dreaming. . .

You can listen to the song here.

This morning I decided we needed more poetry in our family life, so today's one and only school project was to discuss this song and then to find one ordinary object in our house and write about the beauty or joy they found in it. Below are the amazing works that my little poets came up with.

Kiki
by Toby Eby, age 7
(editor's note: Kiki is the name of Toby's white blanket that he's had since he was a baby. It got this name when he had trouble saying "Blankie" and said "Kiki" instead.)

Kiki
Very comfortable
Since I was a baby
I like to cuddle with Kiki when I am tired
I feel happy


Lego Elves
by Emma Eby, age 8

Lego Elves
Oh, how I love to play with Legos
I love to pretend that I'm sailing out to sea
And Farran is flying on his dragon right after me
Looking up ahead, Aira is flying on her pegasus sleigh
And if I look down I could see Naida
Riding and playing with the dolphins
Azari is on the ship with me
And is trying to turn the water into fire
When I'm playing with my Legos
I feel so great


Blankie
by Hannah Eby, age 10

Blankie
A small well-loved blanket
Worn and dusty because of love
Since I was two years old, she has never left my side
Though people call her grey, I can see her pink
No blanket could be loved more than Blankie

They way her fabric feels is comforting in hard times
The small Piglet patch woven on from Winnie The Pooh
Has memories of cuddling with her
Clinging to it
I could never sleep peacefully without Blankie by my side


Legos
by Naomi Eby, age one-week-shy-of-twelve

Tiny little blocks that don't amount to anything
Yet they bring together siblings that otherwise have separate interests
Unlike other toys, they don't grow old
because you can always imagine and then build something new and different
There is no end to the adventures they hold

Something like WildStyle's motorcycle, driven by Lego Kai
Might be going on a picnic with Lego Friends
Or a stormtrooper in the latest flying machine
Might be pursuing Aira's Pegasus sleigh
There is no end to the laughs when Toby's driver, in the newest mobile
Says, "Can't catch me!" and then is caught unaware by Emma's driver
Who has crept quietly around the corner
And then when he flees right into the hands of mine

I love these little blocks
That enable us to have such good times


I am so impressed by what my children came up with today. I hope they keep on writing.

To all the poets I am raising,
And to all the poets who are reading,
Keep on dreaming.