The Empty Room Poem by Magdalena Biela
The Empty Room
I stood silently watching the room
it was my last time there.
My eyes in sadness mirrored the gloom
that was too hard to bear.
With heavy heart I swallowed my tears
while I was held and kissed.
I knew that after all those years
I'll miss and I'll be missed.
An empty room was quizzing me:
'How much do you remember? '
I saw myself through memory
until this last November.
How many children did I raise?
How many minds I've lightened?
I was a teacher all my days
and I was never burdened.
I loved them all in many ways,
I taught them to be honest,
to be themselves and run life's maze,
to be kind, good and modest.
I taught them life in other land,
and other country's language,
I gave them hidden in their hand
the key to wisest courage.
One day the Wind wrote me a leaf
that told: 'You know it's time! '
I took my books, I hid my grief,
and followed the Wind chime.
28.11.2014
Lanzarote
they take our hand and drive us through the woods of writing...and we come back filled with leaves, trees, syllables, vowels, clouds, smiles.. Magdalena.. also your comment is poetry.. Dall'Italia, ti giunga un abbraccio pieno di amicizia Fabrizo
This is a heart-felt, poignant poem of the inevitable end of all things human. I'm not sure why the Wind sent her that message of withdrawal, but your personification of the Wind makes it impossible to resist. There is an underlying courage in this person and no trace of vanity. Others may only be dimly aware of her moral excellence but it comes through vividly in her monologue and I for one am convinced this is a person who can trusted to properly and positively shape the minds of young people. Her life and performance are models to help her student maneuver their RITES OF PASSAGE. She is almost the polar opposite of the hypocritical woman of HYPOCRISY.
a very good composition! I've really enjoyed reading your poem. Thanks for sharing, Maria
That photograph really struck me - it could almost be the room I taught in for 27 consecutive years! I would like to think this poem will unfold itself to another teacher, but not everyone else. I want to claim it as the teacher's poem because it captures the idealism of our profession. Teaching can be described in many ways, but one thing is certain: It is the triumph of hope over doubt, even despair, because if you possess and are possessed by hope, you will never give up on young people and complain (which many do) . You will always restore your energies at night and come back the next day ready for a new challenge. I.m in a nostalgic mood tonight, That's why I had to come back to your fine poem.
I loved them all in many ways, I taught them to be honest, to be themselves and run life's maze, to be kind, good and modest. ..........// there lives the lessons of love where the modesty and humanity lives happily // lovely poem penned
To have the passion to teach and return to emptiness is sad. ++10
Memories! ! But, there is hope ahead of you. Thanks for sharing.
Your poem fills me with nostalgia though a teacher I'm not, takes me back to bygone days long which I had forgot. There is a lovely soul hidden behind those words.-10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/7/2024 12:18:26 AM # 1.0.0
This poem is beautiful! I'm surprised no one has commented on it before. I, too, have experienced the same thing, standing in my classroom for the last time as I retired from teaching. And you expressed it so well: you don't just teach certain subjects; you teach PEOPLE. You teach them how to behave and get along with their peers, to be honest and kind to each other.