From the Archives—Featuring Nila Webster, jani johe webster, and Virginia Johe

It is a special honor for me to share poetry from three talented women spanning three generations.  Nila is a light in the world, sharing free books with children, being an advocate for compassionate patient care, and encouraging others in various ways.  It is through her generosity that we have her mother, jani johe webster’s and her grandmother, Virginia Johe’s poetry to share with readers at Whispers. Thank you, Nila!

Sincerely,

Karen O’Leary—Whispers’ Editor

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Excerpt from The Gift of You, The Gift of Me

By Nila Webster

Thank you for

The color of joy

And the shape of love

For the shadows as dusk

For the mourning dove

Who coos in hours of gray

When life is sad

And we've lost our way

Thank you for life

And death

And life again

For the seed of hope

Born of each sad end

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This excerpt is from Nila J. Webster's picture book The Gift of You, The Gift of Me. She wrote the book in one sitting as a response in an incident of bullying, with the hope that honoring the beauty in nature, and in ourselves, will create a beautiful space where bullying will dissolve and be replaced by love and acceptance.  Nila has donated 100,000 books to children in her mother’s honor.

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sometimes

By jani johe webster--(In Memory-May 2013)

did you think sometimes

you were something else

like a mocking bird

or a weeping willow

did you walk sometimes

going backwards

or light candles

in the middle of the day

let's go then

where no ship has ever sailed

and spend our lives with falling stars

until we can spend

no more

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Thoughts from her daughter, Nila Webster--From her, I learned that in poetry, all things are possible: the moon "whispers silver secrets," tree roots gives us "wisdom," and, as she wrote in pure Zen-like fashion: "it is a gift / this day." She taught me to see poetry in every corner of the universe and my life, and even now that she is no longer physically present on this earth, I hear her whisperings of wonder.

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We Wonder

By Virginia Johe (In Memory-1911-2011)

What color is the rain
as it taps on our windowpane?
What color is a breeze
as it hides in the trees?

We wonder
what color is the air,
its fragrance sweet and rare?

What color is the sky --
gray, blue, white or pink
as it darkens into night?

We wonder ...

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Virginia Johe (1911-2011) began to write poetry after she lost her beloved husband of over fifty years. She did this with the encouragement of her daughter, Rochester poet jani johe webster. jani, who is my mother, and who taught me the magic of creative writing, saw this great grief consuming her mother's life, and bought my grandmother Virginia an electric typewriter. Virginia set up a work area and began to type out her grief in the form of poetry. With jani's help, she submitted poetry to print journals for many years. This poem was written shortly after her husband's death, in 1980.

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