Impelled :: Healing Through Dialogue

From poem #251 - I try to move the reader even more and set out to heal through dialogue and words


430 Teacher

For my school teacher of 6 years who dreamed of a lot for me - things that are slowly coming true, and my feeling for my mother to continue the cycle of love.

Rhyme Scheme: Consecutive

72000 ways you believed I would leave this world a little brighter.
If only I could touch children a thousandth of what you do, teacher.
You taught me of meridians and cameras, and of the wonder of math,
But you also taught with grace that very few except teachers hath.

I was slow to realize that the thrill of energy is to see it kinetic, in all splendour.
So today I promise to live up to my potential - live life with the utmost grandeur
As also today, I commit to helping those who would realise we're already wise.
I set out to be my bristling best, learn and walk the way from within, so nice!

Special days are simply a counting of our blessings, do we forgot to feel ever blessed?
I wonder if you would bless my daughter this very special day - she's gonna be missed.
You see she's a journey to make, to find God at the end of the tunnel, and heal.
She's a good girl she is, taught me everything I know about love and the need to feel.

Numbed by life and toil and grieving, she promised to hearken to my voice
That begs children to let go of the temporal, hear their pulse amidst the noise.
A pulse that heralds a grand tomorrow, where we let go the dark and live in delight.
You see, its time to stop stumbling in the dark, instead just turn on the light.

Teacher mine, was it only 21 years ago I left your class and went to discover
life? I found myself, and happy I am with the wise old man I see, mirroring his father.
Bless you, this day and forever more until we're called to that great gig in the sky,
And then come back as teachers again, until our children learn to jive and thrive.


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429 Mass →

Written for a friend, the day they stormed the Sri Lankan President's house, demanding his resignation

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431 Making Love2 →

At the crossroads of romantic dead ends, this poem sees me letting go of the past and making way for what would become "dreamy"