Art Submissions
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Gera-Mya Sapp, 16, Jacksonville, FL
Hannah Stodden, 9, Trilla, IL
Andrew Stodden, 9, Trilla, IL
Raynold Bauman, Palmerston, ON
Elliana Quiner, 15, Long Valley, NJ
Rosemary Martin, 9, Butler, OH
Elisabeth Enns, 15, Agassiz, BC
Leiah Lopez, 10, Merryville, LA
Heather Booz, 7, Elverson, PA
Melissa Booz, 11, Elverson, PA
Violet Booz, 13, Elverson, PA
Poetry Submissions
The Waves Awaken
Colette Park, 17, Alexandria, VA
Looking out upon the deep,
Water drapes ‘round like a swirl of mystery.
Waves slip softly to the shore, then they leap,
their silken sheen mirroring the fiery bursts of the sun in its victory,
as it rises like a phoenix awakening from sleep.
The Creator moves amongst the waters,
As they dance about Him, the sea forms a symphony.
It sings clear and cold.
Velvet yet turbulent,
Rhythmic but tumultuous,
Unrestrained and yet a vessel of His Glory.
As a baby breathes the breath of God,
The gulls begin to sing, their music rings,
As the waves swirl and break upon the shore.
The infant cries, then he gazes up at the skies,
Reflected in nature’s looking glass.
A child toddles toward the water, giggling with glee,
His innocence marvels happily,
Reaching out, toward the waters,
He grasps at the diamonds cast out upon them, to make rich his coffers.
Then approaches the toll of the school bell,
And to it, the child must go,
Knowledge shall be his, but is it wonder’s death knell?
No, for the child shall still walk by the waters of the unknown,
And, in the end, he will see
that the more the wisdom washes over him,
the less he shall know.
Now upon the horizon approaches the tsunami of colthood,
This boy will run, wild and free,
Upon the beaches of the pounding surf,
He shall seek to know what is not his to understand,
And this realization will make him a man.
His life sails onward towards a whirling dervish,
Be it heartbreak or loving calm,
He will soon know as it comes along.
And he will drown his pride and
Bend one knee, offering her the diamonds of the sea.
They shall smile and cry, more rich than to the eye.
Up from the waters, a cry shall break the waves of pain,
And into the deep, they are thrown again,
With a little life to guard and keep,
Away from the sorrows of the deep.
The years will pass, and lines will appear,
Upon the faces, of those most dear.
The man will wear a white-capped tale, upon his chin,
As he tells stories of the Moby Dick, and drinks gin.
While the fire roars, and the wind whistles,
The waves sing a lullaby to his children’s children.
He knows his time is coming near,
So he holds tight to what is most dear.
The man rises, dancing across the moss, as he holds his oar.
In he steps, and to the bark he must cling,
Trusting to the strength of the deep, he embarks upon a journey.
Slipping stealthily, the oars slide through the silken sheen.
The bark bears man, on its shoulders
As it flows upon the river of time.
Through sufferings and pain,
Through the gale and the rain,
He must swim.
As he journeys to meet his Creator,
Who has the waters of life immortal,
Man will find,
The portal to everlasting serenity.