Silent heads bent over the desk.
Pencils gripped firmly in bony hands
while etching on
stark white paper with thin blue veins.
The pencil falls silently to the page.
The words gush, tumble, scream out to the page.
The thoughts clutter and fight their way to the page.
The ideas shudder to life and exist for the moment.
Then a pause, before it starts again.
This pattern continues
day after day
week after week
month after month
and every day, new pencils, new papers, new words, new thoughts, new discoveries.
And, I, as their teacher, howl and delight in what I see
These students, they inspire me.
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