A few nights ago, while listening to the radio, I heard the radio show host read a poem titled “Prodigal Yet” by a Canadian poet named Ethelwyn Wetherald. I must admit, I haven’t been able to shake off the words of this piece.
If the title hasn’t given it away, it deals with the parable of the Prodigal Son that Jesus told. The reason why this poem stuck with me is because, though the son returns to his father’s loving embrace, he still longs for his pitiful and “freedom-filled” days tending swine. I’ll admit, for someone who has gone through her own prodigal story, this poem hits very close to home.
I know. It’s been awhile since I’ve done this. Shame on me…
Does anyone remember reading The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros? I can’t remember if I read it for high school, but I’m certain I read it for my “Chicago Latino Writers” class in college. If you haven’t read it, the book is made up of vignettes told from the point of view of Esperanza, a young teen girl living in Chicago. The book is quick to read and is more than just a book for young adults. The following is one of my favorite pieces from the book.
Well, this selection shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering what happened earlier this week. However, if you’ve been living under a rock or just not a connoisseur of pop culture news, Robin Williams died on Monday. There’s no point in rehashing all the grim details; that’s not my desire in posting this recording.
One of his best movies is Dead Poets Society, which you should go see if you haven’t, and “O Captain! My Captain” by Walt Whitman is referenced a lot in it. I wouldn’t blame you if, after viewing the movie, the urge strikes you to stand on your nearest table or desk and recite this poem.
The post I wrote up for Monday began with a portion from The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis, which is a brilliant book that everyone should read. Actually, anything by C.S. Lewis is worth picking up and reading, but that’s just me. Anyway, the portion I picked is in the last chapter of the book, “Charity.” I’m sure you’ve heard or read this quote more than once before. Here’s another occasion for you to enjoy it. Maybe.
When I was in college, I had a class about Chicago Latino writers, which was inspiring to this Latina who dreams of being a published author. One of the books I had to get for the class was an anthology of poems called Shards of Light: Astillas de Luz. Reading through it, I found a poem by David Hernandez called “Un Buque De Flores.” I didn’t know it, but Hernandez was considered the unofficial poet laureate of Chicago. I say “was” because he died last year. This poem captivated my imagination as a nineteen year old college freshman and I still love it to this day. Hope you like it as well.