Tag: Walt Whitman

4/7/13 “Poetry”

Good day, team.

It’s April, and that means it’s poetry month again. As I always do in April, I’d like to share a poem with you that speaks to me. Your challenge this week is to find a piece of writing that speaks to you — maybe it’s the words to a song, a piece of prose, a poem or even just one line. Write it down and keep it someplace where you can see it each day. Let it remind you of what’s most important to you.

Here is mine:

A Noiseless Patient Spider

I mark’d where on a little promontory it stood isolated,

Mark’d how to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,

It launched forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself.

Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,

Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,

Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them.

Till the bridge you will need be form’d, till the ductile anchor hold,

Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

— Walt Whitman

Have a good week,


© Copyright 2013 Pathfinders Coaching, Scout Search Inc., all rights reserved.

5/28/12 “In Memoriam”

Good day, team.

Today is Memorial Day. For this week’s challenge, I am offering a few poems about war that touch me deeply. It is but one way to honor those who serve in the armed forces. Your challenge this week is to find your own way to honor those who served their countrymen. Let us not forget those who have perished, those who’s lives have been marred by war, and those who continue to serve us.

As Toilsome I Wander’d Virginia’s Woods

As toilsome I wander’d Virginia’s woods,
To the music of rustling leaves kick’d by my feet, (for ’twas autumn,)
I mark’d at the foot of a tree the grave of a soldier;
Mortally wounded he and buried on the retreat, (easily all could understand,)
The halt of a mid-day hour, when up! No time to lose-yet this sign left,
On a tablet scrawl’d and nail’d on the tree by the grave,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.

Long, long I muse, then on my way go wandering,
Many a changeful season to follow, and many a scene of life,

Yet at times through changeful season and scene, abrupt, alone, or in the crowded street,
Comes before me the unknown soldier’s grave, come the inscription rude in Virginia’s woods,
Bold, cautious, true, and my loving comrade.

~ Walt Whitman

Ten Minutes

It was ten minutes before the war
The quietest thing you ever saw
Ten minutes before the war
And everything was looking good

It was ten minutes during the war
The sickest thing you ever saw
Ten minutes during the war
And everything was dying fast


It was ten minutes after the war
The emptiest thing you ever saw
Ten minutes after the war
And there was nothing left

No more war
Is that what it takes for
No more war

No more war
Is that what it takes for
No more war

It was ten minutes.

~ Colin Coplin

Upon the Arid Lakes
A field of flowers
Rousing under remnants of the dawn:
Out there! from death, I rose
Above the silent many –
A distant will-o’-the-wisp
Reflecting under airs of minor ninths –
How rich the ambience they threw!

What theme of prosody
Had rendered me? –
Tho’ silent were its words:
A broken soul in pulsing pain –
Thou mustn’t guess what goes behind
The sick and ghostly screen of war!

In sallow-grey and other ashen hues,
Disrobed of warming flesh
That reassures the bones,
A twisted pose
Portrayed my physicality –
Not unlike the carcass of a prey;

But as a cloud of thought, I mused,
Exacerbating woes
Collected in a life dispatched
In freely flowing blood,
Conferring crimson shades
Upon the arid lakes aflood
With glorious tides of nascent buds
Begetting innocence.
And as we glowed in ruddy shades,
I asked: ‘What future lies ahead?
What terror trades? ’

~ Mark R. Slaughter

Have a good week!


Kathleen Doyle-White
Pathfinders Coaching
(503) 296-9249 office