My students must think
I'm reading such a sad poem;
As my eyes cloud,
the words blur,
and a warm drop
slides down
the side of my nose
collecting at my
nostril,
one last time,
before I wipe it away.
The truth is,
this is the very reason,
why I didn't
read
in school.
My body would relax
so much,
I could feel myself
enter the text.
The words blur,
and I would put down the book,
confusing it all for
boredom.
Fifteen years later,
I sit with my fourth-graders
reading together,
and it happens again.
I know this time,
whether prose or poetry,
satire or cynicism,
reading
controls my body,
keeps me afloat.
Gives me the calm
of sitting at the bottom
of a swimming pool,
letting one, two, three. . .
four, five, six. . .
seven, eight, nine
bubbles rise to the surface
as I sink slowly.
It is quiet
at the bottom,
and somehow,
safe.
5 comments:
'It is quiet
at the bottom,
and somehow,
safe...'
This is so eloquent!
and something I can relate to, the only thing in this chaotic world that gives me peace..
May you find yours, my dear!
I just bumped into your blog. Thanks for the lovely words and imagery. You have some powerful stuff. Stop by for a visit sometime. Keep writing - with the hope your life will be filled with butterfly wings.
Reading can be a way of freeing one's self from one's surroundings, in order to renew or rejuvenate mind and soul. Calming, yes. And hopefully, cathartic. ^_^
So glad you've resurfaced though, to share the depth of your words.
"My body would relax
so much,
I could feel myself
enter the text."
Wonderful expression.
Hello Stan. I thought I placed a link to my new blog from the old one, but you've found me.
And I find you under water. You are the sky that brings rain and the sea that collects it.
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