I filled a blue bowl with raspberries and poured a few drops of honey over them. I wondered what metaphor fit a raspberry. I tried and discarded a few ideas.
The metaphor I chose was that each raspberry is like a little collective. They reminded me of the miniature world in Dr. Seuss’ Horton Hears a Who (“a person’s a person, no matter how small!”)
…those Suessian apartments and all the little beings inside them.
…those Suessian apartments and all the little beings inside them.
The little raspberry hairs could be the raised hands of comrades as they discussed various issues. So, when do our tribes, our communities, begin? Early in our lives. It’s comforting to be in an interest group where people really understand us.
I played around with a few ideas and wrote seven versions of the following:
LIKE A RASPBERRY
Who wants to write a story?
Okay, go sit around the art table.
Who wants to build space ships?
Sit on the Reading Rug.
Who wants to plant beans?
Go out by the garden.
They do.
They gather together,
each group already a little tribe
A comfortable clump of kids
holding hands, holding on
.
But this poem wasn’t where I was trying to go yet. I could hear my friend Bruce say, “I liked the back story better than the poem. You try too hard when you take on an assignment.”
.
So I wrote this–still a rough draft…but maybe more interesting?
.
RASPBERRIES
.
they are each a little collective,
you can even see
some of their hands raised
as they discuss
raspberry issues
What’s your metaphor today?