I walked along the emerald sea,
Chirping birds and buzzing bees,
Saw the moist morning leaves,
And pondered what was to be.
I stood on a cliff, tall and high,
And saw the man, for he was nigh.
Without him, life is but a lie,
Instead of joy, despair and a sigh.
Remember he told us ancient lore?
Of faraway lands and distant shores?
He had me gaping in utter awe,
And always always asking for more.
That is nothing, but a flash in time,
Of when I knew but one to nine.
But without him, life is a bad lime,
Sour, bitter and nothing tastes fine.
Why?
For he is the concerned,
the caring, the calm and cool;
The shunned,
the feared, the callous and the fool.
He is a firefly in the night,
Comfort in terror’s might,
A shady veil for the light,
A friend in a fight.
Who is she or he?
Who is greater than we?
Who can make us see?
Who can set us free?
Who? The teacher.
