When he was sad, he tried
to see
trees overhanging cottages
and a road,
or a sunrise over the
effervescent sea.
There were cheeks of
roses to see
and cows in their special
seats
on a hillside. When he
was full
of the fires of gladness,
he gave himself
to fields of grain by
Flemish painters,
or the strong white faces
of statues.
There were wonders to
walk past
and celebrate. There were
merciful works
of art for a teacher to
hold in his heart.
