Teacher With a Metaphor

“Dance”
His [the teacher's] words painted with Van Gogh’s brush.
Silence, for once, rested upon my peers,
Gazing at the boy
With the glass of water.
Perhaps at this moment, he felt
Looked down upon.
“Dance”
Repetition seemed to bear no heart.
With a silent shake of head,
The life of the glass came to a halt…
Ended before it began.

Before the boy sat down,
He wore a crooked smile of victory…
His status secured,
He was out of danger now.
No spotlight to blur
His vision.

The teacher took the glass
And introduced the water to the floor.
“Fear:
The water inside the glass
That keeps us from dancing…”

I’ve never known any metaphor
That has taken my hand by the heart…
But I learned that day:
I must tip my glass,
If I want to live…
Without fear wading in my wake.