The Seasonals
Helen Zhang
Winter is the season of the spirituals.
There is a mystic quality to the softness of the earth, the gentle warmth of flickering candlelight and
family hugs,
Snow covers the world in a thin sheen of pearls, translucent in its quality, iridescent in its spirit,
Winter is the season of the soul.
As our days narrow into mere spears of time,
We exist in that liminal space between night and day, some call it twilight but I think its essence has been spun from starlight, beaming drops of liquid sun frame the faces of buildings, trees, homes.
Winter doesn’t have to be dark and gloomy unless we will it to be.
Winter is the season of silence, of reflection,
Of waltzes under dim moonlight, warm hands and vermilion noses, we find peace in joy and savor it, winter spins out languid tendrils of pearls and sends them dancing in the wind.
There is happiness found in this tranquility, silent walks in a bed of roses, exchanged glances and shared
smiles.
Winter is the season of joy.
Light
Bridget Gray
light,
the all encompassing comforter
the picturesque portrait of peace
its liquid gold seeps in my skin
trickling into my veins with
warmth and familiarity.
light,
the reigning queen of blissful ignorance and unabashed youth
naïve to pain, ignorant to tragedy
it stands alone in perfection
in beauty, in grace.
light,
like the luminous stars strung before us,
reaches out to spread its joy,
never ceasing in its transcendence.
light,
too joyous in its bubble of stability,
too joyous to notice a fallen star
slowly sneaking its way into its shadow
of light.
My Morning Dew
Cami Culbertson
The glittering eyes that wink back at me,
just like the fluttering waves of a summer sea.
You fall and sway under the glance of sun,
reminding the lilacs that April has begun.
Your promise breathes life into hidden cracks,
supporting its fragility from collapse.
Your skin licked by a curious rabbit,
thirsty from the constant morning habit.
My eyes wince from the brightness of a new day,
and yet you remind me to love the new sway.
The sway of the early grass on crisp air,
moving as if the earth’s chest rose and fell—
the sound of dirt folding beneath one’s foot
as an audible note of how natural we behave.
It is you, morning dew,
that whispers into my ear
to stead fast and look outward.
It is you, morning dew,
that flutters light at me
after the darkest midnight pour.
It is you, morning dew,
that flicks my wet ankles
like a tender touch when I fall.
It is you, morning dew,
that greets me when I rise
and envelopes me when I fall.
i want to see the world with you
Unaisah Saeed
i want to see the world with you,
so place us on a flight,
ticket in hand—round trip.
take me to tokyo
let us flit between vermilion torii gates
to pet the deer in nara.
take me to marrakech, morocco, and
let’s barrel barefoot through the desert
as the soles of our feet sink into the saharan sea of sand.
race me across the amazon
as we lose each other in the thicket of lush evergreen,
catching the song of vibrant billed toucans and rainbow macaws.
come with me as we browse the bazaar in tehran,
fingering through the silky pashmina scarves and oriental rugs,
marveling at their arabesque, swirling, floral designs.
let’s explore the churches of germany,
home to epic history,
remnants of the once but far gone holy roman empire.
let’s explore the ruins of ancient mohenjo daro
in todays pakistan
as we dress in silk shalwar kameez.
stand with me in awe
as we look on from the grand canyon
at the redish orangish sunset-esque landscape that greets us.
let’s travel to nairobi—capital of kenya,
embarking on our first safari
where we’ll gape at the golden spotted giraffes.
when we return home,
we’ll be sad—no doubt,
looking back fondly at those once-in-a-lifetime memories.
“thank you,” i’ll say to you,
as we part ways.
“for seeing the world with me.”
The Woods
Gretchen Merman
I wish to reside in the deep dark wood,
Where the hills hum their silent serenades.
And where all is quiet and all is good
I could wake as the sun begins to fade.
In a quaint little house is where I’d live,
Moonlight shining from chocolate-brown shingles
I’d scale every tree and climb each cliff
Until with cold my limbs start to tingle.
The woods are my world, they’re where I’d escape
From the chaos of the busy city.
A wild and blesséd child, it is my fate
To call to the mountains, bold and pretty.
I’d run and jump and climb and seize the day
For in the woods is where I’ll always stay.
grandma's touch
Elizabeth Ajumobi
Before I could utter a sound
I was cradled in my grandmother's arms
Wrapped in her warmth, suffused with love
She smelled of peppermint, a distant memory
When I fell off my bike and cried out in pain
She hushed me, lifting me tenderly
And in her embrace, my tears ceased to fall
To her, I was her daughter reborn
A chance to do better, to show more love and care
My mother's words still linger in my mind
Youth, she said, is fleeting and unkind
She wept at the realization
That her own mother was just a person without hesitation
For so long, she stood tall and strong, wise and watchful
A mountain of strength in her eyes all along
But now we see, she's only human after all
Capable of mistakes despite being careful and tall
As time passes by, our roles reversed
I am now the steady rock on which she can ground
Her guiding light, her source of strength
Together we face life's uncertain length.
Sunrise
Isabel Huddle
In the before,
Dwindling starlight reflects on the shore
Constellations disappear into the heavens
As an almost invisible hint of color awakens
The ever-expanding sky explodes with light
painting the clouds ever so bright
An array of warm lively colors splatter the darkness
Detailing the sky with an expert sharpness
Then the sun makes his debut
Biding the lovely moon adieu
With his assent comes the promise of opportunity
A new day of hope and glory and beauty
A Free Summer
Nia Shetty
As the gleaming orange sun rises in the east,
the bright ocean blue water starts to ripple
The bustling commotion of laughter and chatter
echoes in the light of the morning sun
All around the world, adventures are being embarked upon,
and new memories are being made that will forever be engraved
Eyes are being opened to beautiful new cultures and cuisines
filled with rainbows of colors that have never been seen
Freshly sliced ripe mangoes, glistening watermelon,
and endless berries fill the tummies of those all around the world
Golden sand stuck in between toes and as the cold water hits the skin,
the beach, no matter how many times you go, will never get old
Shiny red tomatoes, juicy mozzarella, and sweet balsamic vinegar
on a hot summer day fulfills the tongue
Each and every summer is a different experience,
but it’s up to you to decide what colors you want to see
That Warm Fuzzy Feeling
Julia Goldnich
That warm fuzzy feeling
On the first warm day of spring
That warm fuzzy feeling
Like hot sand scrunching between your toes
That warm fuzzy feeling
Like the third sip of hot cocoa
When it’s cooled down just enough
But still warms you from the inside out
That warm fuzzy feeling
When you hug your best friend
And you are embraced back
And you just hold each other for one second
Of pure happy warmth
That warm fuzzy feeling
When you walk on cold tile
Wearing the fuzziest of fuzzy socks
That warm fuzzy feeling
When a puppy licks your face
And that warm slobber leaves a trail down your cheek
But the puppy is softer than duck down
And its big eyes look up adoringly at you
That warm fuzzy feeling
That’s better than anything you can imagine
That warm fuzzy feeling
That fulfills life
Spring Rain
Mary Silva
The quiet patter of warm spring rain
Tapping the leaves with a friendly touch
The wispy clouds cast swirling shadows
Flowing over deep green brush
Droplets dust my face
Refracting beams of light
Tracing cool tracks down my cheeks
Falling from great heights
Bursts of color dance in my eyes
Flowers swaying in the wind
Spring’s gentle touch brushing the field
As I watch their twisting stems bend
Clean air and the smell of soil
A cool breeze lifts my hair
With the sun on my cheeks, I smile
Living life without a care