The Teacher Makes the Scholar

That year, all I remember

Are words

Mountains and mountains

Piled together

A deliciously constructed sundae

 

I had always loved them

Taking strolls

And admiring the pretty syllables.

All around,

A simple garden of happiness

 

But that year, she taught me

To look

Go into the bushes and see

Here! There!

All the secret paths to take

 

For the sundae wasn't just ice cream

It was more

Bananas and whipped cream and chocolate sauce

All separate

But joining in a multi-layered masterpiece

 

The garden wasn't just a pretty picture

It was more

Rose bushes and hydrangeas and insects

All alive,

Striving to help the garden grow

 

That year, I learned how words 

Are recipes

And maps

And keys

To unlock unforeseen secrets

 

That year, I came in with eyes

She gave me a microscope

To see how the details

Influence the whole

 

And a telescope

To see how the lining of stars

Connects to the words

A writer chooses

 

I was a reader

That year,

She made me a scholar

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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