Struck Deaf

Struck deaf by confusion –
your lips, I know, are moving
yet come voiceless to my ears.
Words rich with portent,
holding the essence of that
which I need to understand
fall short of their intent,
fluttering in the breeze
only to drop at my feet
before first their meaning
is understood . . .
It seems I must sift each thought
carefully, weighing its worth,
slowly digesting its content,
before a day might come,
often long after
the truism was heard
when I think the thought my own
and proudly display
new found knowledge to those
who first sought to enlighten,
and now nod with cautious mirth
and tender compassion –
rejoicing in my final understanding,
Always the student I must be,
but like an unruly child,
I learn at a pace of my own keeping,
comprehending only when
comfortable to do so . . .
and my teachers continue
to wave scarlet banners before my eyes,
trying to catch the attention
of ears too often deaf.