You floated around the school,
In that robe priests wear.
The black belt around your waist,
Which you, as most priests, did adjust now and then,
As if the calling was falling off.
Did you make it a point to speak,
To everyone in the school?
Two-thousand odd number,
Even to the most silent, you divided,
Not through the microphone in the assembly.
But face to face, especially after the interval,
Haunting the A/L classes,
That were filled with restless souls trying to find meaning,|
You would speak.
At times, you would peep over your glasses,
Surveying the mystery in front of you,
Often a perplexed, attention seeking lad, clad in a cloak of mischief.
At times, you would offer your subtle sarcastic sneer,
To an audacious boy trying to outwit your grey hairs.
Words of advice we often heard,
Listened, not so much perhaps.
Yet, we knew, that you drew,
Your strength from above.
I knew, for I saw,
The glow in your face you could not hide,
In your dilating eyes that betrayed,
The love you held for your flock.