Saturday, April 30, 2016

Who are the Teachers

V1:
Who are the teachers
in this school that we call life?
Who do I learn from?  How do I measure
what I'm taught is wrong or right?
Where does the knowledge come?

From he who owns the mansion on the hill,
the one who's trained to heal,
the preacher from the pulpit,
are they right?
Or is it the homeless in the park, the addict in the park,
the lost soul walking aimless in the night?

Who are the teachers?
Who are the teachers?
Who do I learn from?

Chorus:
Who will teach me,
 to judge another isn't right?
Who will teach me,
the candle that I hold, deep within my soul
can bring forth light?

Teach me to be kind,
to find the path that winds,
back to where I came from long ago.
Who are the teachers?  Who are the teachers?
I need to know.

V2:
Who are the teachers
in this school that we call life?
Who do I learn from?  How do I measure
what I'm taught is wrong or right?
Where does the knowledge come?

From one who wears success upon his sleeve,
who never seems to grieve,
the banker, or the lawyer or the such?
Or is it the child in the cold,
the lonely or the old,
the one who doesn't ask for much?

Who are the teachers?
Who are the teachers?
Who should I learn from?

Who are the teachers?
Who are the teachers?
Who should I learn from?


Thursday, April 14, 2016

My Man


He lay looking out the window as I sat down by his bed.
"What is it that you're looking at?" and this is what he said.

"Look up there at those mountains, that I have ached to climb.
I just can't seem to make it, with these old broken legs of mine.

There are ragged tops a waiting, meadows in different shades of green,
The monarch elk's a bugling where the wild eagles scream.

There's a five pound lunker, swiming in a deep blue hole.
I know that I could catch him if I could carry up my pole

and turn over a rock in cold wet dirt, and gather a worm or two.
But I'm a little worn out.  I've got some restin' I must do."

So he closed his eyes and I held his hand and I saw him faintly smile.
"I'll get the camp fire burning," he said "and I'll wait for you a while.

There's no need to hurry.  It's okay to take your time.
I'd wait for you forever; my green eyed girl of mine."

I lied on the bed beside him.  He kissed me on my cheek.
I didn't feel another breath, but I didn't need to weep.

For looking out the window, I could see this man, my love.
Climbing up that ragged mountain towards the clear blue sky above.

Susie Whiting~ 2015