i hope you know (i'm writing a letter)

Chapter 01: to my family
Chapter 02: to my friends

i hope you know - i'm writing a letter

an eternal, living homage to all the wisdom you've ever shared
to all the greatness, honest and genuine, you've displayed and attained

(all the places you've lived. all the places you've worked. all the schools you've been a part of, as teacher and student both.)

teaching comes naturally to you; you give of yourselves with skill and grace
entire careers lie behind you, opaque to one who only knows you now

(imagine seeing you, a lifetime ago - and you would have recognized me, i hope)

so many performances waiting to be worn through, of course
family members attending with each their own share of amazement

(all the space in your heart you have for students, strangers, and you go home to be yourself again)

and even now, in your bustling retirements
new children bring to you new challenges

(perhaps kids can do less than they ever could, even as you aver that students are smart; it's an advantage, i confess, for me)

i want to be one of those. i want to be part of it.
i want to be one of you. i want to be part of you.

every concert i play, every stage i walk, the excellence i present will be for you, for you.
every check i bank, every route i ride, the rewards i reap will be for you, for you.

my life and what it lets me do is help me get just a little bit closer (to you)

teach me how to give myself back. teach me how to be such a kind and worldly citizen.

and you do. you do it every time. you do it in the way you greet me.
i feel as if i'm occupying outsize space, but in fact, i reprise what once was gone.

i just want to acknowledge that this world we've got is working. my future world, even so far on, will know that you were here.

i hope you know - all of this is for you

i hope you know - i'm writing a letter

a time capsule of these moments you so casually shared with me
in addition to the beautiful budding tapestries of your own tracks

(all the places you've slept. all the places you've eaten. all the games you've been a part of, with pieces and people both.)

you are all together building a routine, a cadence, a tradition
our first meetings are as a passing thought, yet everpresent; bright

(imagine seeing you, a lifetime ago - and i would have recognized you, i hope)

so much promise in the stories we have yet to write together
friends of yours i've never met, that i will someday

(all the space in your heart you have for me, and yet there are still others, just as tight)

and even now, in your burgeoning young adulthoods
reflections echo back to not so long ago

(perhaps true connections are rarer than they ever were, even as you speak with such dignity; it's an advantage, i confess, for me)

i want to be one of those. i want to be part of it.
i want to be one of you. i want to be part of you.

every town i greet, every street i walk, the good character i hold will be for you, for you.
every lump i save, every route i ride, the experience i gain will be for you, for you.

my life and what it lets me do is help me get just a little bit closer (to you)

teach me how to make myself free. teach me how to be such a kind and worldly citizen.

and you do. you do it every time. you do it in the way you greet me.
i feel as if i'm occupying outsize space, but i know i'm reprising what once was gone.

i just want to acknowledge that this world we've got is working. our future world, even far apart, will know that we were here.

i hope you know - all of me is for you