I am a teacher.  

I am an artist. 

My canvas: the minds of dyslexic students.

My medium: consonants, vowels, syllables.

Each piece of art assembled one tiny step at a time.

A work of patient nurturing;

a constant ballet of teacher instruction meeting student understanding;

building her skills layer upon layer.

A twisting of multiple concepts into sturdy threads 

able to anchor the complexities of language into his mind 

with smooth brain stitches.  

As the form of each unique masterpiece emerges, 

robed in newfound confidence and abilities, 

able to stride away from my polishing and honing drills,

empowered for independence by the myriad of tools 

carefully tucked into every fiber and recess of her mind;

I indulge in a moment of reverent admiration of this latest magnum opus

before turning away to join hand and heart with the next blank canvas who needs me, 

for I am a teacher.