Who Is She Who Teaches Not? Poem by Orin MSH

Who is she?
A dame, fraulein, matron,
Caretaker, chambermaid,
A sage, a scholar, a savant,
An intellect of erudite disposition,
A guide, a mentor, a noble patron?
For she is the run-of-the-mill, ubiquitous
She is in all of us, we who have trudged
The commonplace, solemn, drudge
The humdrum golem, a drone
Yet she is the one, who turns over
Each and every stones.

The one that stands alone
Though deep in the maddening crowd.
In silence her words are spoken aloud
On every surface, every texture,
Every sacred word, every strange letters,
Each phrase, each praise and rebuke.
To act without fear or favour.
For those who truly know
The profundities and virtues.

Who is she? The matriarch?
To the novice and the scholar
She is the spark in their thoughts,
The flash of apprehension,
The throb of inspiration,
The pulse in their visions,
The flair in their elegance,
The gift in their gab,
The faculty of their genius,
The eloquence of their speech,
The kindness in their gentle hearts,
The grace in their very poise
The strength in their young voice.

In the dull arid landscape of unknowing,
The gloom of ignorance, unknowledge,
The metallic clanging on the floor can be heard
Till the wind carries away all grief and the birds
Sing and trill exaltation for her journey, well
Into the sunrise and sunsets of a new day;
Extolling her triumphs and feat
While the bell tolls her farewell
And leaves us sweeter stories to tell.

Who is she who teaches not
The language of discord nor of hate.
Courting no favours nor benefits
From neither kings nor magistrates,
And idioms of loathing and of feud,
Begrudging diction, speech of the brute
What more deceit nor subterfuge?

Fearless and loud she paves the way
Shining from a distance, her gilded path
For those before and those to come,
Asserts the truth before sweet nothings,
Neither on the stage nor on the bench.
She who teaches us these graceful ways
The nobler words with hopes to raise.
To be as a bubble in a rushing stream,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, or a dream
To journey to where few have gone
And there to see what few have seen,
Who asked for neither wage nor praise
But only His blessings from high above.
The one and true reward: His love.

(Orin MSH: 4th Nov 2022)