~
There are thousand heralds’ of change, gold’s and reds and
the brilliant goodbye of long free days.
Maybe it’s the chill or the way the leaves are curling amber
that instinct leads back to learning
Here in these eves my learners are gathered with the
eagerness of youth
I tremble a little
I wonder if Tennyson and his poetic trail can be taught
above the drone of toddler toys, tears and triumphs.
I fumble for the lines spoken sweet into my soul on the dawn
I drew my brood back to the books
Ancient words to steady my aspirations
‘Providing
circles of quite within the clamor of evil’
The books are pulled
in stacks on floors dotted with splats of yesterday’s science and this scene
thins the line between quite and clamor, and I’m not always
sure on which end I live.
If my leery soul were to decide I might fail in fright.
Fallowing my faith further my Father hushes a promise
‘Your Love,
God, took hold and held me fast.’
On the last lesson of this first week I smile a weak apology
She, the first, in third, “but this week was grand”
I look straight and square right into those beautiful browns
and there is not a hint of doubt.
I tremble a little
These four gathered in the delicate warmth of autumn’s
wonder, I hear notes of holiness in the noise and nurturing.
My faith is lifted and leads me on.
~