Welding our Reflections
The sound of pencils fills the air,
as children write of hope and fear.
To solve a problem is their goal,
like shoveling dirt into an endless hole.
Each day I see our youth grow tall,
within my day I witness them fall.
They look to us for guidance and hope,
They cling to our actions as a life-saving rope.
Be careful the words you choose to be spoken
for they listen astutely despite their gaze being broken.
Our children lie fast in the cradle of our arms,
Seeking comfort from all of the world's vicious harms.
Take to heart their souls portrayed in their eyes,
follow the sound that emanates from their heart-broken cries.
They speak to us in so many ways
their future spreads out in the upcoming days
I write this as they think with their mind and their heart,
how they, in this world, can play their special part.
The life of a teacher, a parent, an elder
Is not unlike that of the life of a welder.
For each of us brings together from apparent disconnection
each part of a whole, for that final reflection.
Our children are us, the realities of our affection,
We are all one...made with love and perfection.
Copyrighted material of Michael C. Casten
The sound of pencils fills the air,
as children write of hope and fear.
To solve a problem is their goal,
like shoveling dirt into an endless hole.
Each day I see our youth grow tall,
within my day I witness them fall.
They look to us for guidance and hope,
They cling to our actions as a life-saving rope.
Be careful the words you choose to be spoken
for they listen astutely despite their gaze being broken.
Our children lie fast in the cradle of our arms,
Seeking comfort from all of the world's vicious harms.
Take to heart their souls portrayed in their eyes,
follow the sound that emanates from their heart-broken cries.
They speak to us in so many ways
their future spreads out in the upcoming days
I write this as they think with their mind and their heart,
how they, in this world, can play their special part.
The life of a teacher, a parent, an elder
Is not unlike that of the life of a welder.
For each of us brings together from apparent disconnection
each part of a whole, for that final reflection.
Our children are us, the realities of our affection,
We are all one...made with love and perfection.
Mr. Casten
April 29, 2011
Copyrighted material of Michael C. Casten
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