WAITING FOR CLASS TO START

Waiting for class to start,
he sang to himself.
No one heard his song,
but sunshine was sitting
on his shoulder, as if
it was interested, and a book
beside him was looking
more silent than ever.
He heard the furnace
somewhere far off
seem to slow down
as if to be less noisy
when someone’s singing,
and who knows
how many trees were turning
toward his classroom
at that breezy moment?

WHILE HE WORKED AT HIS DESK

"Daffodils and Pears", oil, by Sarah Sedwick

While he worked at his desk,
the daffodils did no work at all.
They stood where the student
had placed them yesterday,
as though they were proud
to have a place in his classroom.
A cloud carried itself with composure
across the sky, some branches bowed
in a puff of air in an unruffled way,
his fingers found the keyboard
like it kept him happy,
and these flowers were fortunate
to be where they were.

CONGRATULATIONS TO A GREAT DAY

"A Beautiful Day", oil, by Susan Cox

He said, “Great job on this day,

dear sun! And good work,

you humorous winds

that gave my shirt a shake

every so often! And way

to go, sticks in the grass,

staying in your perfect positions!

And congratulations, light-winged

little birds that belong everywhere

on a day like this! And

you did it, worries, you wailed

and screamed in the softest way

and then went away all alone!

And attaboy, you bright lights

in some of the words I spoke!

And attagirl, you gifts

given to me moment after moment,

in the millions!”

He threw a few more words

in the air in praise and appreciation,

and then prepared his supper.

SETTING LAMPS OUT

"Two Turq Lamps", watercolor, by Gretchen Kelly

On some days the belief that he is a bad teacher

or that his students can be unsuccessful

slides away like clouds fall off to the west.

Then he sees again that his thoughts are lights

that always lead the way,

and that his students’ thoughts are also lights --

little ones as wonderful as his.

He sees that light is all that lives in his classroom,

and that ignorance always gets up and leaves

when he and his students set their lamps out

at the start of every English class.

A PROPER THANKS

One day a parent thanked him,

but he said she should also

thank his parents,

and all his teachers,

and every person

who passed his way

in sixty-nine years,

and the mountains

that made him strong

thirty-seven years ago,

and the Current River

for the courage it taught him

as a teen,

and the sun that strengthens him

day after day,

and the air

that makes miracles in his lungs

and lets him stand

before his students

and teach

what all these have taught him.

WHAT THE SKY SAYS

"Sky Painting", oil, by Tom Brown

A wide, wonderful day

was spreading itself out,

a bird was letting itself loose

in the woods, 

but the sky

was simply staying where it was.

It does that, the sky --

just good-naturedly lets things underneath

think they’re strong and significant,

while it takes its time

with its sunshine

or clouds carrying presents

for us all. It says,

“My strength is in staying

out of the scene,

especially on large, lovable days

like this one.”

HE HAD A FRIEND

"Road Challenge", oil, by Stephen Goodman

He had a friend

who was full of happiness,

and because of that,

he also was happy.

He saw that happiness

is like sunlight,

something that can’t be

measured or collected

or kept to one person.

It spreads evenly

across our lives

as we sleep or visit a store

or set out in search of it,

or just as we sit

in our secret sadness,

not noticing the happiness

that always fills the universe

and always waits.

APRIL

"Tennessee Spring Light", watercolor, by Chris Ousley

Just the word itself,

can cause fields

of good moods

to grow inside me.

April’s a welcome companion

-- its wide-open mornings.

it’s wisps of warm air,

its rain

running down the roads

to meet me.

The passing of March

makes April my manager,

the creator of countrysides

of youthful thoughts,

the thrower of first-class feelings.

IT HAPPENED SUDDENLY

"New England Summer", oil, by Roxanne Steed

It happened suddenly.

He was speaking to his students,

about lines from Shakespeare

when, without warning,

it seemed his words

were made by mountain winds,

his thoughts thrown together

by fires and floods.

He felt like feelings

were falling into him

from far off heights,

like the land of heaven

was here in his classroom

in this quiet part of Connecticut

where commonplace things

usually occur.

SILENT READING

"Bluebird Happiness", oil, by Thaw Malin III

We were all sitting silently,
and the stones outside
were sitting beside each other,
and trees were sitting
with warm arms held out,
and somewhere there were limitless stars
settling into their places.

Our pages slowly turned
as we traveled separately,
serious readers
shining side by side
somewhere.