Stardust

Today as I slowly zoned out
in my science class,
I thought about how before I learned science,
before I knew what lay beyond us, the planets and moons
and stars and galaxies and black holes and dark matter,
the sky was just sky.
The stars were sparkling fire balls giving us light.
And everything was so simplistic-
this is people,
this is ground,
this is birds and fish and animals,
this is Earth,
this is sky,
here is our moon, darling.

What possibilities lay beyond those words?

Today Bill Bryson's voice comes out of the CD player in our classroom.
"At some point in time, everything, ALL things, were compacted into something so small that it was half the size of an atom. This is called a singularity. In three seconds, this singularity exploded (the Big Bang.) And, withing three minutes, our universe became. How did all matter become so small? We don't know."

We don't know. But somehow we came out of it. The earth and the waters and sun that keep us alive. Here we are, and we are made of stardust. This is no metaphor, though it could be.

We are made of stardust.

Our Summer Novel

Fall comes
And summer ends
It is no longer the burning secret
Our element of surprise
We now know
The wavering stories of our summer
When the river ran wild like the bare soles of our feet
And the bare souls of our bodies
Ready to soak up the words of those days

Yes, the winds are growing cold
The leaves are whimsical shade-changing
Umbrellas
And here we are
Standing beneath them
And the stories we lived
In those earthy, hot summer months
When the outdoors were our playgrounds
Are either stories think of,
Or trash in the crinkling leaves of autumn

Ode To Summer

We sat inside
A quiet night
trying to conquer Mario Galaxy
Oh, what nobleness

Come, she said
We are going on an adventure.


Where?
Where are we going?
What?
Where?
The expected replies.

You'll see.
Just come.
We're going on an adventure.

Jumped up the steps,
grabbed our shoes,
here we go.

Grab some chalk.

Okay. Lets go.

In the darkness
we run across the street.
Feet flying, where, oh where, are we going?
Take me somewhere.

Lets draw.
Legal grafiti
along the sidewalks
as we go.
Waves of blue here,
pink fish,
smiling face.

Friend's driveway.
Hey Brandon,
Tom's Cool!,
face with mustache,
Welcome Home.

Preist's house.
Hi Father,
scribbled in heart,
more smiling faces.

Across the street, and to the church.
Cross in green,
LOVE,
and, what was it, Riley,
that you have drawn?

Guitar Teacher's house.
Hi Arnold,
big guitar.

And finally, to the school.
Do we love it?
No.

Run, run.
Across this blacktop you have known.
Tetherballs: don't get hit in the face.
Fake a lay-up at the basketball hoop.
Onto the playground.

I'd forgotten how big it was.
Down the slide into the sand.
You're it!
Tag.

Finally, quiet.
Except the creaky swing.
My swing.
Only now the faded blue is
cheap red plastic.
But it is still mine.
Enveloped in the light of a street lamp.
Like the lonely swing it is.

Lights

Colors began turning hazily into the sky
And the water
And the ground was just ground
Something beneath me
Holding the gravity that kept me
From blowing away

Loud crashes of bursting fireworks
Echoed through the spacious
Waves
The vast empire of water and sky
Crackling and shattering the quietness,
The sheltered thoughts we hide in

And all I had with me to mark this time
Was burning metal
Emitting sparks
And drifting smoke

And with it I wrote a simple
Thanks
Which sailed away with the wind smoldering
The heavy breaths I wore
From running into my own seclusion
At the end of the beach
That tipped point that led to the water
Where I stuck the ashy stick into the sand

My own farewell
To the greats
Who have done something
For us

For this world

This sparkler of light
For them I hold up
And twirl
And promise that I, too, will be something
Good

Storms

I have no memories
Of thunder shaking the house
And lightning illuminating the darkened skies
Dreary rain, I thought, empty, loud, scary
Now I watch it, and I gasp
At the simple beauty of rain surges
That dance on the streets
"I think it's calming down," my brother says
As if the sky is a little worked up
And just needed to let out some energy
And I believe this

I struggle to keep myself inside
There is thunder, and lightning, I think
But there is rain, gorgeous rain
Calling to me, come, come
And all I want is to dance
Like the storm outside my window
I'll be listening to my brother's
Philosophy of the skies
Like I used to do with my friend
As she pointed to the sky at reccess
And claimed that a storm was coming,
You could smell it, and see it
And I believed her
And we'd stare at that sky
As I'd tell her that someday
She should become a weather girl...

Of all the destinies we might own...

A Poem About Myself

I am a single raindrop falling among millions of others
Splitting the sky
A single shard of water gloss
Plotting the ground
Reverberating silently
And becoming swallowed by sky
Only to once again
Fall
But though I am quiet
My thoughts are loud
And sometimes I am loud
And I pour from the sky
Bringing a fresh air with me
So that you cannot help but study me
And I am called by voices, sounding voices
Chau bella
Goodbye beautiful
As I am brought back to the heights
Not to the Earth, but heading up, up
Because my thoughts, my dreams, my stories
Belong there
I am not of the ground tribe

Optimist Speech

This speech took second place in our seventh grade speech meet for and Optismists' Club. I was pretty proud of it, especially since no one helped me with revisions or anything. Mom and Dad were in Washington D.C., so it was all my changes and revisions. Hope you enjoy!

Why Me?
Why Not?

Why me? Why not? “I wish we could open our eyes, to see in all directions at the same time. Oh what a beautiful view, if you were never aware of what was around you,” one of my favorite bands, Death Cab for Cutie sings. It always gets me. Why? I believe it is the part about not being aware of everything, and discovering new sights, new views. Like opening your eyes to a new world for the first time. I don’t exactly remember what seeing and learning so many new things was like when I was little. But I like to see everything freshly through other people’s eyes. Last month we took my little cousin to a park. We sat him on a swing for the first time. I watched in-between laughs as he felt his body moving up and down, up and down, very slowly. On every back swing he laughed and on every forward swing he smiled as his dad touched his cheek. He sat in it for minutes on end. Then he saw all the action in the sand and slides and wanted out. But quickly, he reached for the swings, smiling, moving back and forth. I enjoyed seeing him experience something so new, and love it. If that is how everything was, always something new, life would be ever changing.

Sometimes I wonder why I don’t have a different life. Why don’t I get to experience new things every day? Like, why am I here? Why aren’t I in a third-world country? Why aren’t I living on the streets, scrounging for food in the alley ways? Why was I chosen to be put here? I cannot understand. I feel like I’m fit for a more adventurous life sometimes. Yet I also think we are here for a reason. So, why aren’t I in some foreign country, speaking a different language, waltzing through their crowded streets? Why are we put where we are?

But, the other day I got an email from one of my friends. It was a forward, the crusty ones that tend to ask dumb questions. For example, the first question: What is your full name? Honestly, I thought. My friends know my full name. And then, yet another question: Do you like the person who sent this to you? Why do those forwards always ask that? If you don’t like the person who sent it to you, chances are, you didn’t open their emails. I was just about to close down the email, when I saw a question that caught my attention. Would you go skydiving? it read. I had to really think about it.

Finally, here is what I came up with. Would you go skydiving? No, probably not. I know I would love it, but my nerves couldn’t handle it. I am extremely afraid of heights. When I think about it, I am a writer, so I love seeing the world from different views. I wish I could go skydiving, but I know that in truth I’d be too scared. And then I realized that I knew myself. I knew my fears and what I could and couldn’t do. But I also knew my likes and wishes. Even though I don’t know why I am here, I know who I am. For me, that seems enough. I don’t feel the need to know my origin, and my purpose will arrive soon. Even if my purpose is to make a difference in one life, that is enough for me.

“Remember, wherever you go, there you are,” says Confucius. I think it is important that we know and understand who we are. No matter our situation; living in Africa on a barren landscape, or living here, in a warm house with a refrigerator filled with food. We need to understand our limits. We need to know every corner of our personality.

When I hear, “Why me, why not?” I also think…if. If I could…if I lived another life. It takes me to more words sung by Death Cab for Cutie, “If I could open my arms, and span the length of the isle of Manhattan, I’d bring it to where you are, making a lake of the East River and Hudson.” They say that if they could, they would bring Manhattan to someone. My grandma and mom used to tell me, “If you want the moon, honey, I’ll get it for you.” I don’t think we have to bring Manhattan or the moon to make someone happy, to brighten their lives. There are little things we can do. Maybe we are set down here, right here, just to bring someone joy, and to love others. Happiness can feel new every day, just like being little and learning about the huge world surrounding us. We should take in as much of it as possible, and love our life, because we only get one. We shouldn’t mull over why this, and why that, unless it might benefit someone else. I have to say though, sometimes it feels good to complain and pity yourself. Sometimes, we all have to do it, to get over our problems.

Our lives may not be perfect, but everyone goes through times that make our feelings sink, and thoughts whir. Everyone knows what it is like to lose someone, and feel crushed and hopeless. Honestly, our goal in life should just be to make someone happy, help someone, and love someone. Keep telling yourself you are enough, that love and hope is enough, and you’ll make it through.