Morning Archimedes
Physical science at the dining room table occurs
Among leftover breakfast bowls and
Frazzled fuzz-balls of wool.
Textile projects will grow throughout the week
(as they always do).
In an attempt to clear a space
We trace a single woolen thread that attaches
to the beginnings of a scarf created
for Bella (the stuffed dog) who somehow always seems to get swept up
behind my bedroom door.
Fulcrums, effort, and levers,
Examples of a simple machine created with Legos,
Lay beside thoughtfully chosen gourds that resemble
arched-necked swans and creeping dragons.
The simplest October decor.
My own attempt at self-care- oil painting-
in that short time between a Sunday morning
run & late afternoon church service
Are now beautiful clutter that contribute
To a Monday morning mess.
Seeking redemption of previous academic failures
(At least I’m not facilitating instruction on chemistry.)
(Yet.)
We open books promising exploration
Of How Machines Work and
The Way Things Work
My five-year-old son is particularly struck
by a quote from Archimedes
“Give me a lever long enough
And a fulcrum which to place it, and I shall move the world”
On a whiteboard he draws out the scenario
Using the moon as a fulcrum
And a lever 10 million light-years in length.
We imagine a small boy as he walks out to the end of this plank
Out into the universe, just to the very edge
He jumps just once.
Imagine.
* Picture: October's craft pile
** Fun Resource 1: We are loving our science curriculum this fall: Blossom & Root Level Four
*** Fun Resource 2: Why Does God Keep Making Poets by Tish Harrison Warren NYTimes
"One reason I think we keep making poetry is because we are ourselves poems. There’s a verse in the Bible (Ephesians 2:10) in which we are described as the “handiwork of God.” But it’s the same Greek root that goes into the word “poetry.” It means “a made thing.” A more literal translation is that we are, as human beings, the poems of God. So we keep making poetry because we are ourselves poems.
