Work Dreams

Last week I was talking with my friend Terry, and the subject of work dreams came up. Work dreams invade the peace of retirement, dragging the retiree back into the workplace. I awaken exhausted and mildly traumatized following a work dream. My work dreams typically involve my running from task to task never adequately completing one before being pulled-in to inadequately complete the next. These dreams are an exact replica of my work life. Oh yeah, there is usually an element of family languishing from inattention to their needs (sometimes in a piano bench – dreams can be weird).

Terry, a retired teacher, told of her work dreams. She is asked to write a play or song and then to teach what she’s written to the children in her classroom. I believe, and people who taught with Terry have told me, that Terry could teach anyone anything. I sense that Terry taught the children in her classrooms how to learn. That’s the teaching trait that I’ve always admired most. As usual, I digress (one of my superpowers). When Terry told me about her work dreams, I was inspired to write a poem. Terry deserves a much better poet, but here’s the poem:

Terry’s Work Dream
You asked me to write a play.
You asked me to write a song.
I told you "I don’t know how,"
Now I see that I was wrong.

Everyday of my life is a play.
Everyday I’ve shared the lines.
I’ve taught children to love and laugh,
And to persevere through tough times.

Everyday I’ve sung my song.
The melody's meant to be shared.
Join in and sing along.
My song tells how I’ve cared.

In the play that is my life,
I’ve watched characters come and go.
I cry when I say good-bye.
I rejoice when I say hello.

Tears I cry as I write my play
provide notes for my song, and irony
Joy, pain, love and loss
Create my song’s harmony.

Children put on your costumes,
sing your own song.
I’m here to teach you to bravely sing and play.
I’m here to teach you to be strong.

You asked me to write a play.
You asked me to write a song.
I told you "I don’t know how,"
Now I see that I was wrong.

While I may not be blessed with a poet’s pen, I am blessed with amazing, inspiring friends. Thank you! Life is good.