When I was a child and the autumn leaves began to turn
I would listen to my mother while we walked to school in pace
Her gait a proud posture evincing energy’s evolved sojourn
Me walking by her side, carrying my lumber (a trumpet in case)

I love this time of year
When summer’s time earns
A crisp bite in the air
Emanating familiar yearns
The cafeteria, reminds me
I am a teacher; hear me

We lived close by the grade school. I carved my identity here
She taught fourth graders how to be exceptional in life’s moment
Always hoping they might remember her ideals next year
When in fifth grade passed on, a new mentor might mete their talent

I recall loving my mother
A young student now alone
My world moves upon another
Journey towards an unknown
Sea of children with each other
Learning knowledge and tone

Later in life I would routinely ride a city bus across town
A book bag by my side continuing to hone my skills
Along the avenue my mother walked the same route alone
As I unaware stared quietly out the window on my own

Saw you riding the bus today
She smiled sowing sweet word
I didn’t see you said I in a shy way
Her eyes let me realize afterward
Expressed a contemplative sway
That moved my soft heart forward

I was many years past that early autumn morning walking
In hand with mother experiencing the start of a school year
When I came to terms with her assessment of my riding
On a city bus alone and contemplative with her eyes near

As a young boy walking
I am a teacher; hear me
Every day I am experiencing
A tease, a mystique, a discovery
When aroused by wondering
Her words and eyes direct me

Today, I have my classroom of children that greet me in a fuss
And every fall I recognize similar sounds and sights familiar
I know that she is watching over me as quiet, I ride on my bus
Considering how I might pass on words so that children hear

Today I walk as a teacher
And you are my passion
I operate by a need here
To recognize your elation
Trust we might learn together
I am a teacher and this is my resolution