Teachers Are Not Born, They Are Made

In whispers with the Divine, I seek the way,

A daily ritual, to find answers to stay.

The Almighty smiles, a gentle, knowing gaze,

Fueling my quest for truth in puzzled daze.

"Why say they’re born, not made?" I ask with zeal,

"Who claims this?" God’s response, a wisdom to reveal.

"They are made," He says, "through learning’s fire,

Desire, experience, and growth, their true desire."

Drop by drop, like an ocean's gentle fill,

Small, conscious efforts shape a teacher's skill.

Awareness, self-awareness, and surroundings keen,

Mentoring young minds, a journey to be seen.

A teacher walks beside, supports, and guides,

A brave heart, letting students explore with pride.

Like a shadow, silent, yet present and true,

Carving paths, yet letting students break through.

In life’s challenges, a teacher’s mettle’s tested,

Like gold refined, they emerge, their spirit vested.

No birthright claim can match this noble stride,

A teacher’s greatness is earned, step by conscious step inside.

Thus, a guru stands supreme, revered and high,

Even above the divine, in humility’s sigh.

For in becoming, they embody the best,

A teacher’s journey, a path of eternal quest.