To This Day

A powerful poem about the internal wounds & heartaches that we deal with -- frequently at the hands of others. Highly recommended.

The Ticking Clock

It took a second class period sitting in the room to hear the stealthy ticking of the clock. (Perhaps it was because first period doesn’t test very well -- some of them seem skittish about silence.)

But during second period, for the first time pretty much all year, I noticed its steady, rhythmic breathing (perhaps that’s redundant).

It wasn’t until fourth period that it became incessant -- perceptually salient now that it has entered my awareness, a “face” from which I am unable to turn (for it enters my ears at all angles).

It “watches” over me like a silent sentinel, its hands “pointing” the ways to go for the students (if only they were paying attention to it).

I wonder if that sound will ever truly get out of my head, now that I have become aware of it -- similar to how an idea never truly leaves you, once your mind has processed it...

“The mind, once stretched by a new idea, never returns to its original dimensions.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson