The School That Will Never Close

A paradox
Ghosts of the liberal walk
With the most confined
A building unrecognizable
What happened to the student lounge?
Was the pool filled in?
I think my office
Was just below where we are standing?

I arrive, giddy with the possibilities
Scouring name tags
Tentative,
Many of us also unrecognizable
I misbehave, I reach back
To a youthful tendril of memory
Seeking the foundation – seeking to be rooted

But also I feel
The palpable spirit in the room
A group as Horace Mann once said
“That is ashamed to die until you have won one victory for humanity”
Over a hundred people
Who have gone on to do good things

We carry the school within us
As we build libraries,
Touch a child,
Save a life,
Discover a cure
It is us who are New Lincoln
No ghosts
No endings
As long as we live and pass the gift along
The halls will be filled with laughter
And learning
And the enduring force of our exquisite human spirit