(Wrote this little poem in honor of faculty development week. Yeah right. Enjoy ;-)!!!!)
And when one faculty is developed,
What happens to the rest?
Do they whither and crack like dry hay
Turn into tumbleweeds
Quietly roll in the wind, cross paths with
Ghosts of cowboys killed in shoot outs
Or accidentally hit in merrymaking
When random folk shoot their guns
In the air, as if bullets don’t fall,
fast and fatally upon reveling heads?
Do they turn sour like pansit,
Left too long out on the buffet table
Then taken to work the next day
Noodles mushy and stinky with
Yesterday’s unfulfilled wish?
Or do they take off?