I grow roses to remember
a beloved grandmother
the dreams of innocence
the blush of summer love
I grow roses to believe
that life has purpose
and time has no end
and love defies boundaries.
I grow roses to understand
that beauty and pain coexist
and life is about cycles
and simple things have great value.
(Linking up with Eugi’s Causerie, prompt: blush. Image from personal collection.)
Educated in curriculums
qualified to lesson plan
and structure evaluations
far reach from current course –
platform inaccessible, only student
self – a disagreeable sort
take my grievances higher –
no response, boss is asleep
indifference snoring.
“Why do we have to learn about something that doesn’t effect us?” the small, blonde student asked me. “I mean, it was ages ago, and not even in our country.”
She might as well have run me through the heart with a stake, the pain of her words struck me so deeply. I considered her: an average student, indulged, youngest child, modestly dressed, like many of her age. Disinterested.
Because without our awareness, and interference, history repeats itself, I wanted to say. Because nothing that happens in the world happens in isolation; we are not immune. Because ignorance makes victims of us all.
Instead, I sent the class home with an assignment: ask questions, call your grandparents, find someone who remembers, and be prepared to share what you have discovered.
***
History foretells –
casts eerie shadows over
disregard’s future.
(dVerse’s Haibun Monday is hosted by Frank J. Tassone, who challenges us to write a piece for Hiroshima Day.)
One Woman's Quest 