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Prachi Sep 5
Someone asked me,
Who is a teacher?
A pathway to degree?
Or holds a position deeper!

‘Union of multiple roles’, I said,
Is a teacher’s true identity;
One who enlightens the road ahead,
Assisting selflessly which is a rarity.

Playing a huge role in our upbringing,
And giving us a constant support;
Teachers were there motivating,
In the times we felt lost.

They teach us the art of life;
Losing sleep for other’s child,
New and innovative ways they devise;
It is incomparable what they provide.

The ones who are always well-wishing
Steering to right path and escorting;
They instill a passion for learning,
Student’s success is their earning.
Respect for all the teachers inspiring and supporting students.
Justin Lai Jun 24
Memories of an old friend's drum;
rejoice as your paths intertwine
and leave an emerald mark,
like a ferry towards safer shores
to guide you between kin's ways,
planting the roots of clarity
where you'll grow with the rhythm
of a ready wan light.
Thank you to teachers past and present, even if it's just a little advice you gave 😁
Crystene Apr 24
I know you are always
Shining like a rainbow
A bridge for those
Who are passing by
To climb upstairs of life
Far away there is a sunshine
As my aspiration
I may not reach you
But I can look up and try
To shine like you
Believing in you
All Things Galore
by Michael R. Burch

(for my grandfathers George Edwin Hurt Sr. and Paul Ray Burch, Sr.)

now in your gray presence
you are

somehow more near

and remind me that,
once, upon a star,
you taught me


that ululate soft phrase,
that hopeful phrase!

and everywhere above, each hopeful star

gleamed down

and seemed to speak of times before
when you clasped my small glad hand
in your wise paw

and taught me heaven, omen, meteor ...

Keywords/Tags: family, grandfather, grandchild, grandson, teacher, mentor, example, guide, guidance, guru
He taught them
where to carve
the dead parts
so the rest could live,
to find its flow
and tap its sap.

With every mistake
the mentor took each
student by the hand
on a short walk
to the middle
of the forest

where it slopped
into pools
thick with inky water,
where the mist
often got trapped
between light and dark.

He mixed water and mud
and pressed it into their chest,
took a sharp branch
and gently scratched
his secret words into them,
until it became a tattoo.

He then gave each a bag of seeds
and a canteen of pool water,
guided them back to their errant tree,
chanted for them to mix both
into the thirsty soil until
it no longer screamed for inspiration.

The students repeated this every day,
watching the grass bloom infinite variations,
discovering their tongues speak
at first his and then their secret words
until they knew all of them,
even those yet to be spoken.
JDL Feb 2
Blazed is the trail made by their mistakes
The high road created for all our sakes
Explorers of lands that were once uncharted
Now the cartographers of the paths they started
We are the proverbial parchment upon which they sketch
Vicariously imbuing their wisdom within each etch
The end of their journey is where we begin
For the trail ahead must be blazed again
Mark Wanless Dec 2019
the words of the mentor
the words of the king
self created
Jay M Nov 2019
Racing about
Scattered here and there
Learning all it can
Then, somehow
Reading a work
So inspiring
A true keeper of knowledge
Hidden among them

Seeking improvement
Of works and self
But so occupied
Barely time for such
In a hurricane of stress
Pressure and emotion
Far beyond itself
The student tried
A deed so selfish
Then reflected
A work resembling the moment
Easing themselves in part
That it was released
But horrified
Of what could have been

Looking up
To their mentor
A keeper of knowledge
Held in high respects
But when seen
At the weakest
Cast away
As one of millions
But the student
To be more than one of millions
Pleading to be taught
To be made an apprentice
No more
No more

- Jay M
November 6th, 2019
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