Compass me about – a poem by Michelle Hasty

Compass me about 

Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; 
Thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance. - Psalm 32


I’d like a hiding place, please
I don’t say as I sit in a circle
Of fellow faculty members 
Most of whom I barely know
We’re passing our talking piece
A green plastic compass
I’m lucky to be last, yet still
Stumble over words I want
To be true not trite
We’re supposed to say how 
We feel, what we noticed 
Upon approaching the circle
What I feel is that my skin is on 
inside out, I don’t say
My feelings are giants, I don’t say
I do tell a diluted truth my emotions
Are many and mixed–fear and
Gratitude for getting to teach
This new class to our newest students
A challenge wanted, wished for,
Now arrives with so many what-ifs–
I tell a hope that there’s an undercurrent of 
Peace and trust that all will be well.
Hours later, a revision visited, 
What I wish I had said
I have lately felt lost
Like being left in a strange city
With a map that I can’t read,
Possibly for another place so 
I can’t get my bearings 
But the message I taped above   
My office desk declares:
God is where the lost things are
Plus–
Someone just handed me 
A compass. 

Michelle Hasty is an education professor in Tennessee. Her academic writing has been published in literacy journals, such as Voices from the Middle and The Reading Teacher. Her short story, “Prone to Wander” was published in the Dillydoun Daily Review. Her poem, “Overheard, an offering” was published in Bluebird Word.