You'll Be There

In the future, there is a classroom

With books and boards and desks.

The floor is worn, maybe a crack in the wall,

But posters splash color and whisper advice.

And you’ll be there.

In this classroom there are students,

Bright and eager and ready to learn.

The world will be opened to them.

Discovery and life will dance about.

And you’ll be there.

Among the students, there will be a few

Trying and doing but not quite getting.

Leaning in, elbow on desk with his writing

Or with her math; a turning point provided.

And you’ll be there.

Among the few, there will be a student,

Sullen or struggling or disengaged.

There will be open battles, quiet chats aside,

Patience required; a long term rescue ensured.

And you’ll be there.

Within the faces, there will be a child,

Noticed, but quiet and blended in.

Not in trouble and not standing out,

Yet from the pat on the back, the confident grin,

The happy room, the warmth of life and learning,

The proud stand, the “good job,"

The hug of safety; unknown, a life change given.

And you’ll be there.

 (for the next generation of teachers)

A Battle Rages

Inside that heart

                a desire, a faith, to protect

                a flag of faces, loved

                red, white and blue

Inside that hand

                a weapon was held

                now closed to a fist

                lashing out against

                pointing in to self

                destructive, afraid, alone

Inside that eye

                a horseman galloped in

                roughshod and violent

                creating infinite tears

                an acidic aftermath

                that goes unshed, burning

Inside that mind

                a stand against solitary hells

                helpless, voiceless calls

                click, whispers explode

               

Inside that soul

                a battle rages.

Proof

When Air Florida Flight 90

crashed into a bridge in D.C. back in 1982,

some survivors clung to a section of the tail

while a helicopter lowered a life ring.

A Man in the Water would take it

and pass it to another.

He repeated this five times

while the cold winter water

challenged him.

When the helicopter came back for him,

he was gone.

And we were one less.

                                He was “proof (as if one needed it) that no man is ordinary.”*

In a tail section classroom

crashed with students,

he passed out life rings.

They looked like books, essays and a joke or two.

Students took them.

They read brave words on a page, wrote essays

and, with his encouragement, spoke their minds.

He roped them in with a friendly manner,

taught them,

and sent them down the hall;

they, knowing or not, swam away with a life ring.

He repeated this many times

until cancer challenged him.

Then he was gone.

And we were one less.

One less man in the water

He is “proof (as if one needed it) that no man is ordinary.”

* Time, “Man in the Water,” Roger Rosenblatt, January 25, 1982

Onward

Yesterday….

                …the knight was knocked from his horse,

                as one does when in battle.

He laid on the ground

                broken and bruised,

                catching his breath.

His horse was missing.

                Defeat, although witnessed,

                 is a solitary thing.

Yet, from the village far away, a bird did chirp.

                There was a faint aroma of peonies.

                He felt the earth moving beneath him.

His horse nudged his shoulder.

                Shakily, slowly, he stood.

                And as he did, he said, “Onward.”

Today…

                …the knight tends to his horse

                as one does when noble and caring.

His own wounds are nursed by his lady.

                His children kiss his forehead

                and tell him stories.

Villagers, grateful for past deeds,

                bring by bread, wine and song.

                They jest and laugh together.

He pounds out the dent in his armor.

                Another scar it carries

                but sturdier it becomes.

On his shields it bears his emblem

                and a few letters.

                It says, “Onward.”

Tomorrow…

                …the knight, at sunrise, will rally forth

                as one does that rides with Purpose.

From his lady, he has a kiss on his lips

                And her scarf tucked away by his heart.

                In his hand he holds yellow dandelions

                from his children.

His satchel has bread, cheese, and tinder

                from the villagers,

                and a scrap of paper

                with a few words from an obscure poet.

The gate opens.

                With straight back and eyes forward,

                He rides.

                And he says, “Onward.”

Rise and Rally

Oh, cancer, you are persistent.

        You attack, young and old alike.

Yes, the list is long of those you have taken.

        But know this,

We rise and rally against you.

With candles and ribbons and tears,

        we stand in memory of those who have fought.

With prayers and science and hands held together,

        we stand by those who face the battle now.

With laughter and hugs and thankfulness,

        we stand with the survivors who are the veterans.

These Heroes All,
have shown us pain, frustration and fear.

But more than that, they have shown us

        the strength of faith,
the grin and grit of courage,
the gleam of hope,
the restfulness of peace

and the unconquered soul

that leads us to

Rise and Rally.

A W in the Book

Tonight is not for a title or trophy,

Just the last game of the season.

Tape the ankle, wear the colors,

Roll the neck, and pound the pads.

It’s time. Time for a W in the book.

Look at the faces next to you

And make an oath right now,

That you will step it up and play

Right up to the final whistle

And share a W in the book.

We have had our heartache

Plus, bruises, crutches and flags.

Yet, tonight if we play with heart

Deep from the fiber of our soul,

Forever will be a W in the book.

C’mon boys, rally round the ball.

Yell and cheer like champions.

Let the field echo with our cry

Let our spirit, unbroken, fly!

And put another W in the book.

Restless

The night sighs in restful peace,

Yet my mind tosses and tumbles.

    Questions pull at my blankets

    giving me chills.

Fears scrabble under the bed lurking

in the dark.

    Rolling over, I hide in my pillow,

    searching for solace and sleep.

Nestled deep in my thoughts,

dozing, my limited time.

    And, I have miles to go. Many miles.

    However, the road is blurred with sleeplessness.