Teach me something new. I am bent at your feet, unable to shoulder the things I am curious about. Like people, when did I become a revolving door for love or an open conversation for anyone to pitch in? I’m thrown… Far and still unable to find a soft landing. Spinning my way in and out of emotions I cannot name, teach me something else.
Something other than escape, something steady.
To be a tree, not afraid to be cut down. If we know anything about trees, it is how they imbibe abundance. You could never tell this shade, thus rest, this life started as a seed. Teach me that. How to be steady in my bloom to be a miracle persevering, professor… just teach me that!
The professor all this while stood frozen in place, book in hand, his thumb and forefinger holding the corner of a page, his head angled backwards, watching the unexpected scene before him.. “When I said where do we start, surely I meant something in the curriculum”, he says to a young man standing on his desk.
The class breaks out in laughter.
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