From the Ashes

I serendipitously came upon this poem I wrote some years ago and it felt related to yesterday’s post about exceeding my grasp. And so here it is: 

 

No bull in a china shop ever caused more damage than I did in my 6^thgrade piano recital 

         as I ran full-speed through Beethoven’s 16^thnotes, 

                  knocking them down,

                        tumbling them helter-skelter into

                                   a jumble of incoherence.

 

In the back seat of the car, my attempts to sing and drum along with my friends to Led Zeppelin

        missed so many boats 

                 that  the Coast Guard was called out. 

 

My high school English papers were returned to me bleeding with the teacher’s red marks

         I stuffed them in my hospital drawer, 

                      where they failed to convalesce.

 

Early in my teaching career, a class of 4-year-olds once bolted out the door and ran 

        down the hall like it was the day after Thanksgiving at Walmart. 

              With me chasing them. 

                    Past the principal’s desk.

 

Despite these warnings from World, I now step boldly forth and claim

         myself as musician, author, teacher, praise 

             the daring 

                   of the phoenix rising 

                            from the ashes of my old failures.