The Tiger (online reflection #5)

I wrote this poem in bed the morning before my second lesson of my unit. The first lesson went fine (actually, pretty good), but those perennial spirits of anxiety and low self-esteem creeped into my head; I found myself falling into the jaws of some dark foe. This poem is a response to that feeling. The metaphor of the tiger not only extends to our teaching lives, but also our day-to-day interactions.

Let us beware those creatures that stalk in the brush. 

Let us hold onto our roar.

The Tiger

By Ashton Pacholski

Class,

you are dismissed.

You walk out the door, looking up

to see the darkness surrounding you.

You tread lightly to your car

aware of the icy path in front of you.

At home, you throw the backpack down

anxious to pick it back up.

At your desk, you smile

briefly

thinking

of your coronation:

The black and yellow crown,

the pendulous tassel,

the adulation of peers.

In bed, you hide beneath

false security, blankets of tears.

You await the tranquility

of eight, seven, six, five, four,

hours before it begins again.

Gazing at the white, clinical ceiling

you see a movement in the periphery.

You take a peek, thinking of childhood

and see The Tiger. Its fangs red

like roses, white

death becomes its form.

Paralysis seeps into your veins

rendering you like the gazelle,

carrion.

And keep calm

you say, to subside the feeling,

but claws impress upon your bed,

each movement causing a wave,

a shift

to that final resting place.

Dreaming, lucidity takes reign

and you find yourself in your kingdom

moving, managing, and molding.

You see your subjects sitting by your side,

respecting the wisdom you impart.

Some challenges arise, but you

are capable.

You roar.

You awake.

The Tiger looks into you,

waiting for your final breath.

You look back, conquering white death.

Feeling the strength,

feeling your voice,

you look back, and command the request.

Tiger,

you are dismissed.

You get out of bed, looking up

to see the light in your windows.

You tread lightly to your car

noting the beautiful dew on grass.

At school, you place your backpack down

ready to face anything.

Everything.