Poetry from the desk of Rachel Meyer

Sometimes I still manage to write a bit in between things at school. One of these I wrote last fall, and the other I wrote last week. Consider this scrapbooking for me.

I browse my thoughts

like books in a library

Familiar yet aloof

from the cascade of words

neatly constrained behind bindings.

I pause and absentmindedly reach for one

I wonder

if anyone else notices the pattern of 

fluorescent lights on the glossy hallway tile

or the window on the way to my classroom that is daily inspiring,

an over-sized post-modern terrarium, containing only

what I see (squirrels, moths, rain on leaves)

while simultaneously containing nothing

because I am the one inside the glass. 

I slide the musing back onto the shelf and walk away.

If I could only figure out

if the books are all written

or if the words appear as I read.

 

_______________________________________________________________________

 

Teacher Prayer

I am beyond the current deluge of weariness, complaints, and chaos.

I will not be struck down 

without rising again.

My eyes will not see the negativity of today,

but will instead sharpen the hope of tomorrow.

 

I will accept my shortcomings and see them

as rungs leading to an ever-increasing perspective.

I will choose to keep my heart soft

and my hands open to embrace others

to embrace what I am given.

I will remind myself to be thankful.

I will remind myself to be thoughtful.

I will remind myself how precious and painful and wonderful growing up is

and love my students beyond what they choose to show me. 

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