Where Are The Children?

Where are the children I used to teach
Their minds keen and eager to learn,
Anxious to please and filled with respect
And eager for merits to earn?

Where are the faces that lit up so much
From a curious, warm inner fire?
Has growing older made me lose touch
So that I no longer inspire?

Who do they see when I visit their schools?
I no longer feel I belong
They speak while I’m speaking;challenge the rules
What am I doing that’s wrong?

I loved the children who sat ‘round my chair
For lessons or stories we chose
The children who waved their arms in the air
To answer the questions I posed

Some of them sneer at my weathered brow
As if I could not have known youth
Believing today lasts forever somehow
Oh, if they just knew the truth

That one day they’ll open their eyes and see
That youth, once it’s gone can’t be bought
And, hopefully, they will not ache just like me
Asking “Where are the children I taught?”      
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Creating A Role

Creating a role is like painting a portrait
That lives inside of you
The easel has no boundaries
To limit what you can do

You paint with tools
uniquely yours
And as you hone each one
The skills that you amass increase
The scope of what you’ve done

You learn how best to
listen
Not to simply hear what’s said
You learn not to let idleness
Reside inside your head

That
thinking is an active task
Which warrants
concentration
And every ounce of thought is powered
By your
imagination

That doing makes the mind believe
And from this feelings spring
Unforced and natural, born of
purpose
Which powers everything

It starts before the lights go up
Before the camera sees
Understanding, empathy,
Mind-power,
all of these

The journey from a writer’s pen
Thoughts on printed page
Suddenly are
breathed anew
And played out on life’s stage

And you become the human vessel
That gives the tale its soul
When you sincerely give of yourself
When you
create a role