Dear Graduates

I feel so disastrous, then how is it I sing?

Might it be my surroundings, these graceful youth-filled souls

Maybe that it’s this One Time, these dapper-Dan’s and Gals

The cotton-candy low-sun skies and promising new lives

Despite the struggles of this year, which brought fourth omni-tears

Farewell, hello, dear graduates, our hearts tethered despite

Goodness Ocean

I take my leave from those who gaze, idly
Or avert their eyes, altogether

Onward, Ho! To teach!
To share air — and indeed, to breathe!

For I can only learn and grow
Alongside those who will take their turn
Do their worst, and make such noise

To right the wrongs with waves of change
As the Goodness Ocean must

Ode To The Students & Those Who Want Them Well

We are silvering

We are not tinsel, flat
Nor tinny, shallow sound whose echoes won’t be known a year from now
We are, “Mr. Watson, come here. I want to see you.”

We are precious shine
Mined from the deep
Ribbons of pricelessness chiseled from someplace dark we’d entered into
Unknowingly, perhaps, but prepared nonetheless
Thence emerged, the metal of us hard-earned

We cannot be traded, bartered, or sold
We are made of this
We are made from this

Will they see us in next century’s sky?
Yes! And, ’til the 12th of Never

Canyons, ancient, will carry our collective voice

We are silvering, and are not second-place