Music of Inspiration

A foreign room transformed
from my days as student.

Familiar in ways:
window sills, heavy
doors, white boards,

lost markers atop the piano.

Entering I shake seeing
sixteen wondering faces
staring at a stranger—me.

I do not break.

I have been educated
by the elite in matters
of mending, deciphering,

relating subjects to greenhorns.

The simplicity of adding
music notes, one beat, two
beats, with a ., three beats,

a grave matter to the assembled;
I reminisce moments sitting
in that fold-out chair, absorbing.

Here, her eyes light quickly
like a flame to gorgeous,
flowing hair; burning

as the wick of a candle,
steady, eager for continuous
education. Her adding, impressive,

her grasp, remarkable.
Though those quiet are not
forgotten—engaged with assistance

smiles bud from their
tiny lips; proud of this
momentous accomplishment.

I root a love to unearth

an understanding of connection,
between symbols and sounds;
a difference I’ve made—

a fragile sprout of a tree

growing with time, dedication;
watered by a substitute teacher’s
passion to evolve desires for learning.