Wish You Were Here

I wish now, I knew then, the importance of walks.

The steps always seemed so burdensome,

oh to just use automation instead of tireless journeys.

I would walk with you, knowing I would follow you anywhere,

just the two of us, together,

yet I’ve never really understood,

until just today,

when the smells of fall weather

remind me of every year,

you would speak to me alone,

just the two of us,

together strolling to school.

you’d say,

‘oh can you smell the air, thommy’

I could, the soil, the rotting leaves, the signs of summer

over,

yet you would have a smile,

I would always see it there,

as then you would again,

explain,

how you loved this time of year,

the onset of the autumn winds,

the cool temperatures,

the luxurious warmth of a well worn sweater,

the sexy nature of life in the seasons.

‘I can almost smell the cafeteria food’

My favorite time of year,

to be,

a teacher …

Standards and Values

oh to delineate the mix of passions,

when all the heads converge in mourning,

the start of their own quiet circus,

to be revealed upon the main stage.

~

Theirs is a craft unlike any other,

a territorial nirvana perhaps in eyes

solo to the universe. Nearby, questions

always remain, tamed in discretion.

~

What heaven-sent ideals do bring

out the comfort of each participant,

in a common measure of sanity

in the beholder’s eyes we worry.

~

Often so easily forgotten in the flurry

of the day’s planning, the memory

that divines a lesson plan, suddenly

shattered in the throes of our humanity.

~

We are really simple folk with a passion

toward reaching the mecca, the pinnacle,

the over-arching, pendulum swaying

essence of a child’s swift education.

~

Numbers and charts, workable Venn

diagrams litter the monitors today.

Each professed design uniquely stable

in the eyes of the frightened minion.

~

Today begins again a journey everyone

familiar can appreciate, the anxiety,

the euphoric nature of creating a glint

in the eye of our student awaits.

~

This year, “I will reach more of them”

is the common phrase said quietly

while watching, looking, stealing

the ideas of our neighbor the teacher.

~

In a moment of purposeful disdain,

we accept the standards, the bubbles

remain in the minds of our surrogate

‘elder’ whose design we must enrich.

~

Remember, my elbow partner, to breathe

while we again beckon a desire to teethe.

The Door is Open

How remarkable to imagine

another period of our lives

measured in time, in knowledge,

in hopes, in tribulations, in grief,

in discovery, in coming of age,

the doors are opening

all across the horizon,

in each avenue of growth,

in every challenge to our passion.

the doors are opening

to allow minds to become alert

to a world that begins with their eyes,

while guided by principles we offer

in humble contrast to our own

quiet ignorance with allowance.

the doors are opening,

and in walk our lives

as a young child or old messenger,

we each might enjoy the bounty

we offer one another in peace.

the doors are opening,

let’s welcome the stroll.

A Teacher’s Lament

Where to now the speaker suggests,

wondering how to run away,

or perhaps the willingness to stay

is stronger than any of their behests.

~

We live lives mapped on calendars

those we glance to progress

trying to maximize less

all in the nature of being their mentors.

~

How quickly we notice the summer sky

begin to play with our security

dabbling closer to reality

while we plan our classes screaming ‘why!’

~

Oh, to live in the eternal month of May,

to know the end is certainly near

to listen, the wisps of fresh air we hear,

already in my august, I do miss today.

~

Yet extraordinary days lay just ahead,

the minds of our younger learners,

they count on our being yearners,

in simple success – even something read

~

The academic calendar has called to say hello

‘we wish in future months to own your soul!’

I Teach

tree

photo by Andrey Bobir

***

August smiles,

brilliant fall colors

give pastel accents

to carve a path home.

~

Aging, beauty

to present a state of mind

delightful, happy,

invigorates our energy.

~

For now

reflection is immediate

only a moment’s glance

suggests sweet shelter.

~

Doors will open

anticipation screams through

the distant halls

recalled, fresh, familiar.

~

new faces, elders,

mindsets triggered

by ‘best practices;’

a ‘carpe diem’ … pause.

~

The reality is

as maples, oaks, poplars

turn

bold as our children.

~

We teachers delve,

avenues of knowledge,

not only selfish pride

yet, guidance with love.

~

Drop quiet in our eyes,

share stories, similar grasp,

capture our mood,

enhance our last …

~

As the autumn leaves, our time

moves forward; imagine new fires.