A different kind of Friday.
No classroom, but still learning.
No textbooks, but much yearning.
No desks, but eyes wide open.
Lights down. Screens aglow.
The paintings breathe.
The night swirls slow.
The sunflowers beam,
Van Gogh speaks in dream.
Little ones in awe.
Older kids take pause.
Even grown-ups feel the cause.
Art we can’t touch, but still stays.
In the mind.
In the chest.
In the talks on the bus, as we rest.
An experience not easy to forget.
For what we saw,
and what we’ve kept.
💛 Thank you, Van Gogh, for drawing us near.
We’ll meet you again —
in our classes, our sketches, and all we hold dear.