Counting My Blessings

(Art School Version)

In thirteen weeks,
I climbed 8,125 stairs,
from the underground parking
to my classroom on floor four.
Not that I’m counting.

Okay, I am.

125 per day. 6 flights.
5 mornings per week.
13 weeks.
Somedays more.

My phone keeps track—
13 flights on Friday,
12 on Thursday,
10 on Wednesday,
11 on Tuesday,
7 on Monday.

Each time,
my thighs burn,
my heart pounds,
I breathe hard—
but easier
through 13 weeks.
I’ve lost a pound or 2—
okay 8, depending on
when I weigh.
Not that I’m counting.

Okay, I am.
Blessings have a way
of hiding
until
you look.

I count more
around the school
Steps and blessings
and such great kids.

I don’t know
the girl
in the t-shirt
that says,
“Nice
is the new cool.”
But I smile,
as does she.
Then my student
greets me,
“What up,
Mrs. Byers?”
Her good energy
spreads like fire.
I overhear another say,
“Today—
is gonna be amazing.”
He catches my eye,
and his flicker.
I nod and hope
mine spark, too,
a torch to pass on.

There’s often time
in my day
for extra steps.
Time—
another blessing.

Music swells
in the stairwells
a flute trio,
a vocal solo.
My heart responds,
drawn by the pulse
of art and life.

One flight down,
Dancers in leotards
perfect techniques
at the barre.
And I—
stroll a little straighter,
arabesque
if only in my head,
held a little higher,
past the studios,
past the tune of piano,
down another flight
to the art gallery
to contemplate
lines and images,
color and messages.

There are days
I descend
two extra flights
exit the building,
walk a few city blocks
for lunch and fresh air
before ascending the stairs

back to floor four,
somedays to the fifth,
where rehearsals ensue

and my heart beats to
the Mariachi,
vocal, and
orchestral
excerpts.

In a small practice room
with an open door,
my student sits
before a harp.
“I didn’t know
you play harp,”
I say.

“I don’t usually tell,"
says she,
and I leave
her to her secret
and take the stairs
back to my classroom
and prepare
for my last class
of Week Thirteen,
not to mention
Thanksgiving.
Proud teacher moment. One of these kids slaying Pavane by Fauré is my student. Please click the link and enjoy!
On my classroom desk, “One Minute with God.” Thank you, Becky! And Happy Thanksgiving, Everybody!