read to me the most interesting story
the way you captured the world’s fish eye
read to me where there was a scent of orange blossom and the musk of roses more
Plaintive cries drifted up from the darkness of an invisible country
read to me the lures of a mid-autumn festival the Sunkist brilliance of your skin I shall never find
Just read to me everything and I’ll listen with my two little ears.
If like me, you are a teacher or
perhaps is touched immensely by a teacher then,
you’ll understand what is written here.
I am a box filled with multiple inanimate objects.
They carry meanings that are relevant and true.
An epitome of light. I embody life.
My father is a teacher and;
nothing pleases me more than becoming his finely carved art
kept in his treasury of inspiration.
So like him, I am a teacher.
Children are mysterious boxes-
some are yellow, some black others red and sometimes white.
Like empty boxes we fill them and-
whatever we fill can make or break them.
teachers are the best fillers; excellent givers.
with many puzzle pieces on our righthand,
a riddle on the left and
kindness from our mouths, we teach them.
Although we train them with objects,
we feed them words and,
we make them think of oceans,
and numbers
and shapes,
a hero,
a scientist,
an artist…
countless, boundless, endless ways to bring out their greatest potential,
we lead them to experience
what they already have within.
A snapshot of who they are and what they can become.
with this in mind, we are aware of the process–
it may take a while.
half of the class may need more help than others cognitively.
a quarter may show a struggle on behavior
three-fourths may be physically incapable or
one child needs love and a hug everytime.
They all resemble the colorful lego bricks
they don’t take the same shape when assembled.
every child is an unfinished business—
always a work in progress; an art work in the end.
with the teacher’s guidance a child can achieve so much
more when s/he feels secure and love.
so in the classroom, the teacher is the magician.
S/he creates a nest full of positive vibes
where no child is afraid to try; afraid to speak.
To learn to believe in him/herself–
to have that sense of pride.
so that learning that’s taking shape inside
will make more sense time after time.
As a teacher, the goal is not only to teach knowledge by completing the box with different objects
rather
arranging the objects one after one
to see patterns or more spaces.
It’s holding their hands to check more gaps.
It’s making them feel like they’re worth your time.
You are their teacher.
They are your colours, shapes, animals, school objects,
your ocean, your sanctuary, your clouds with birds singing, your numbers.
They walk, jump and fly.
Seriously, who wouldn’t love all these?
Like a mother to her own children,
I love them.
I simply
just don’t know how NOT TO.
A composite of me and the universe 