letting go, living, moments, teaching

Teach

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Teach

by Carmen H Gray

I rushed to sort it all out: 14 years of 28 gone by

As I piled more things to the side for goodbye

There wasn’t enough time to go through it all

I glanced at the artwork, left lonely on the wall

I sighed and I conjured up all that I’d taught

And little nuances that each of us brought

To this space confined between four walls

And even beyond that, into the halls

I heard the sniffles with tears, the children who needed healing

I also heard laughter, the “hello, Ms. Gray’s,” while excitedly squealing

I packed it all up-those sights and those sounds

I headed outside to the gardens and grounds

Where the rosemary was named and the aloe was tended

Where the fig tree was climbed and fairy houses blended

Into the rocks, the acorns, and where the leaves unfurled

This is where little hands created imaginary worlds

And I kept the sadness locked up, not revealing

When my son saw me and asked how I was feeling

So I told him the school, his school, was going away

I glimpsed at his face, the boyhood cheeks gave way

To a chiseled, grown up profile

He looked at me with a smile

Though still lost in my thoughts, and feeling distracted

He gently said,

“Mama, just think of how many lives you’ve impacted”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 thoughts on “Teach”

  1. This is so lovely and bittersweet, Carmen. And I know exactly how you feel. My kids remind me with the same words as Pierce. Go ahead and let those tears rain.

    Liked by 1 person

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