I Work in a World of Possible.

I work in a world of educated women

men in trousers and button-downed shirts

sensible shoes that shift shift shift

down century old wood-floored hallways

where before any of us became us,

hundreds and thousands of children walked

in straight and not so quiet lines

on their way to growing up

becoming

Along their way each of us

growing, becoming too.

I work in a world of busy parents

shuttling children to the front gate

backpacks ready

shoes tied and oft untied

lunches packed 

milk money tucked into jackets 

Uniforms faded now mid-year, navy and tan

Shouts of “I love you.” “Have a good day” and “Be good!”

echo across asphalt playground

I work in a world of strong women

answering calls from concerned parents,

neighbors, official requests.

Whose language shifts without seam

Good morning,  Buenos Dias

Sonrisas and warm rolls caked with sugar.

Strength beneath their kindnesses

storms may rage but calm controlled manners prevail.

I work in a world called elementary

but only by those who do not truly know

the complexity of teaching 

the most basic components of  life, 

learning to brand new human beings

whose lives are as deep and rich as

the Pacific Ocean near which we come each day.

I work in a world of people, ideas, dreams

Where everyone is becoming more of themselves

Messes and misunderstandings

Fix-it-ups and try agains

I don’t get its

and You just don’t get it YETs

You just don’t get it YETs

A world where everyone is trying

where everyone is learning

I work in a world of possible