Inspired by my students.

From a Teacher’s Broken Heart

The classrooms were built on treasures from the sea,
Crushed to almost be unrecognizable
Except when passing by,
The rays of the sun
Catch the shattered creature’s bones and make them glitter
Like sunken treasure brought to surface once again.

The sea is now smooth black asphalt,
Except for the abyss of cracks where monsters used to hide.
The only pattern of the seafloor is the weathered sun-bleached boardwalk
That lead the students to a maze of classroom doors which block out the cloudless sky.

The only waves that hit the shore are the waves of thumping feet
As the children run and jump, walk and skip, clump and bump along their way.
They come in waves when the school bell rings,
An echo of the dutiful sailor
Who always had an eye on the sea for mermaids, strange lights,
Eager to explain the unexplainable.

Now the children crush the ocean treasures, glistening in the sun,
In such a rush to be on time, to follow rules, to conform.
No time to stop and notice the cypress growing from the abysmal crack in the asphalt sea.
No time to pause and find a seahorse skeleton glistening among grains of sand.
Seashells broken by time, and sand dollars longing to be held by pubescent hands,
Still smooth with young skin.

The time has passed to wonder
How a palm tree has wound its way through the rusted wire fence
Which is soldiering a patch of white sand
Which the long-necked, long-legged, sea birds often visit and leave a map of tracks.

The bell has rung,
No time to wonder,
No time investigate
Where or what the bird was after.
A speckled lizard, smooth and brown?
A quick snake, silent and startling?

No time to be free as a sailor on the sea,
And see the beauty and think for oneself.
The bell has rung,
And the children are told what to think,
What to do,
When to do it,
What to learn.
No time for the treasures of the earth, those times are in the past.
No time for curiosity.

February 19, 2009