To my journaling educator friends
We met, a pod of
varied ages, values, upbringings,
expectations and expertise.
But all who spend our days
hoping to ignite a spark
in others.
We gather
according to the calendar
to read and listen,
to chuckle and giggle,
to sigh and frown,
but mostly to write–
or draw or chart or list–
“to compose,” she says.
We have come to
understand the power
of the word.
Not only those polished in
five-paragraph essays about school uniforms
or letters to the editor about chicken nuggets
or poems that must contain 5-7-5 syllables about nature.
We knew about
this temporal power.
No, we’ve discovered
another power:
more vital, but more concealed.
Words that reflect our
trials, challenges,
successes, joys–
all in the imperfect
diction of the heart.
Words written and spoken,
raw and filled with the passion
to heal and inspire.
Words recorded in journals
we have created
with our own hands and hearts,
kept in private spaces
or in a desk drawer.
Words waiting to be shared
or re-read or gratefully
forgotten as we move along
our journeys.
And so we compose
from the heart
and share and listen
and
grow—-
as educators
as mentors
as humans.
