First Day of School

I walk the halls of remembrance
opening doors of long stashed-away memories,
smiling and laughing, listening and note-taking, chatter and silence.
I picture myself many years younger
seated at a desk inside a small room in a far-off school.
Years full of mistakes and learning now looked back upon with thankfulness and regret.
Lessons learned over time from both blackboard and asphault.

"Education has given me the position I now hold, bot not the maturity I have gained through experience."

Now older, paused outside a door with black numbers stickered on the window,
I only hope to pass on more than words and analyses of reading lists,
more than definitions and functions of a noun, pronoun, verb, and the other eight parts of speech,
more than the ability to write a good paper and get an "A."
I desire to impart wisdom learned from the harshness of reality, brutality of the world, and the gentleness of love, compassion of a mother;
Maturity from beyond their years to instill qualities of greatness.
Things not taught by lectures and chalk, formulas and definitions;
things taught by reality and living, failure and success.

I take a deep breath and let it out quickly
before slowly turning the knob.
Upon entering, heads turn to see, and noise hushes slightly.
An airplane flies across the room, and chuckles erupt as
I put my books upon my desk--the big desk in front.
I look up and am ready to begin;
begin instructing and befriending all new faces.