a graduate creative writing class
at sarah lawrence college
our assignment was declared
by a stern tall dark man
with a queen's accent
we were told to write a poem
addressing the meaning of sarcasm
and to be sure
to leave the reader
with an acrid after taste
for hours after reading
oh my, i wanted to run;
sarcasm had never found a place
in my writing, nor in my waking life
and now i was paying to take a course
to hone my creative writing skills
and just now being asked
to write in a style
completely foreign
to my spirit rock roots
a spiritual teacher once said,
"the thing we are forced to do
which makes us shout with resistance,
is the very thing
which will make us grow-
into the people
we were meant to be"
so, indeed, the teacher and this course
however much they be pushing me
beyond my envelope of comfort,
have made me realize
they can be too-- considered my guru:
as they force me to grow-
an indoor jade plant growing through
the isinglass windows
tree limbs extended to court stars
brushing up against other galaxies
inside a eveningsong played long enough
to become familiar-
a family of fragrances
as a fellowship,
gleaming lights, strung taut
to count on...leading me
ever further
onto the challenges that change
to smiling miracles,
mountains glowing rubiesque
with open paths, i walk upon
fearless, never-ending
through cloud dreams
Kate Lamberg
10/16/11
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