The Writer and The Teacher

The Writer sits down at her desk.
Pens stand in a mug, the screen warms up.


She holds her pen, she clicks the keys.
The page is blank, the screen is empty.


Finally, the words come, the keys click.
Slowly, at first.  A few words appear.


They are not orderly.  Some make no sense.
But, she keeps writing.  It will happen.


Words flow like water over stones in a brook.
The sound of new possibilities waiting to be found.

Time to start the day.

The Teacher walks into the classroom.
The pencils are sharp, the paper open.


She looks at the clock, and then sits down.
The desks, in neat lines, are empty.


Then she hears the footsteps, students arrive.
One by one, they sit at their desks.


The desks are no longer neat and orderly.
Instead they are filled with movement and life.
Words flow like water over stones in a brook.
The sound of new possibilities waiting to be found.

Time to start the day.

- original poem by Shannon M. Turner (c) 2010