• The First Days

    Friday, September 7, 2012




    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.