A Teaching Heart

You offer wisdom, experience,
Knowledge, self
With open hands,
Stringing life together
Like seasons –
Moments and hues,
A kaleidoscope of shades,
And patterns playing
Across the days.

Bits of broken glass,
Baseball and bat,
Driftwood bleached
White in the sun,
Fields swaying soft
With cornflowers,
Sap Suckers,
Redwings and robins,
An impromptu
Saturday bouquet.

Your passion draws me
Four hands scooping sand,
Dripping it wet into turrets
Crowning our castle
With field grass,
Proud.

You quietly encourage me
To S T R E T C H
One step farther,
A little higher,
A little longer,
And I
L
E
A
P
Just because you think I can.

For in you beats the
Heart of a teacher,
God-breathed
From the moment of conception,
Love without conditions,
Or hesitation or reservations,
Or agenda,

More than your career,
Your calling.

Who you are,
What you do,
How you live,
Pouring out your life as a offering,
Every moment of
Every day
Of all my life…

Investing,
Encouraging,
Lifting, stooping,
Listening, caring,
Cheering on toward the
Goal –

Student ready to fly,
To S O A R
On passion’s wings,
Carried on current of love,
Into the great wide world.

Nest, now empty,
Quiet,
Waiting…

Waiting…
For the next
New hatchling.

Another chance
To watch the still-wet wings
Begin to stretch and fly,
Moments of life strung together
Like seasons –
A kaleidoscope of hues,
Patterns and shades playing
Across the days.

Gift of a teaching heart.

*To my Dad, the finest teacher I know, on Father’s Day. It is an honor, privilege and blessing to call you Dad. I love you!

Advertisements

10 Comments

Filed under Poetry

10 responses to “A Teaching Heart

  1. Ah, great tribute to your father. “Still wet wings begin to stretch and fly.”

    Perfect!

    Like

  2. Beautiful tribute to your dad and to others who teach, guide and encourage. Wonderfully done.

    Like

  3. your words pay high regard for your father …

    Like

  4. Oh, Cindee. This is just beautiful!

    Like

  5. Cindy, the way you wrote this – the words flowing like a gently moving stream, flowing and bubbling and white leading down to the stillwater at the end. See! This was poetry – because it made me be poetic in the afterglow. And to find that it was for your dad – I didn’t have this kind of dad, I’m glad that you did, really glad you did. Thank you for this Cindy – and God bless and keep you and each and every one of yours this day.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s