It’s quiet in the mornings

Before the student rush

The call to prayer

That first light glare

Lesson planning: final brush.


School’s first moments: greet the guard

Collect my prints and copies

Store the extras, check for pens

And head out from the office.


In the classroom, students coming

A bell, the rush begins

Complaints and grumblings

Near sleep stumblings

And sometimes even grins.


The classes fly, the papers pile

Grading is never done

We do our tasks one at a time

As upwards climbs the sun.


Sixth period now, I’ll take my break

And join the students’ chatter

Try making friends

As formality bends

This usually ends in laughter.


Final dismissal, sometimes I wonder

Who wants that bell the most?

The students go flying

Mid-sentence, thoughts dying

Naught left in classroom but ghosts.


Ghosts to be graded, sorted and filed

My focus dissolves to a nap

I get it all done

But not with the sun

Near ten, I’ll say “that’s a wrap”.


If you’re wanting a little adventure

I’d suggest “go to the moon”

But if here is your place

Then take up His grace

Get up! Run the race!

He’ll be back soon.


We could sure use your help (we need teachers!)

Expect maddening ridiculous fun.

Ask Him, “Is this where You’re leading?”

Pick up His grace! Get up. Run!