Reflection

Thank You

by Natalie Jakiemiec

When my friends ask why I like to write, I always just shrug and say, “I don’t know. I just do.” But when I’ve tried to pinpoint why I like writing, I have found it a lot harder than I expected because I realized that there were so many things I love about it. There’s

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Rift into Childhood

by Gracie Griffin

Alone Outside in the fresh, cold air A swing sways Dancing a slow, sad waltz In the orchestral moan of the wind The violin bows of the tree Sweep down Sending the simple wooden board Into a spin No child to weigh it down No laughter to block out the sough No playmate for when

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Camouflage

by Vanita Sharma

The smile on her face, his cheerful attitude, the cool look while strolling. The echo of her laugh, shimmering eyes dancing, slightly humorous gestures. His saunter, her contented look, the excited buzz of conversation: is he sincere? Behind a glowing mask, a slab of blackness, a layer of emotion exposing true feelings. Tears brim in

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A Light in the Abyss

by Fareeha Shah

Interfaith Connections is a column for teens to dialogue about how their faith or wisdom tradition influences their view of life’s big questions. In each issue, three teens from different backgrounds respond to a question posed by the Editorial Board, based on the theme. This quarter the Ed Board asks: Is searching for truth an

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Awakening

by Melynn Oliver

Interfaith Connections is a column for teens to dialogue about how their faith or wisdom tradition influences their view of life’s big questions. In each issue, three teens from different backgrounds respond to a question posed by the Editorial Board, based on the theme. This quarter the Ed Board asks: Is searching for truth an

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The Big Apple Is a Poem Itself

by Niti Majethia

Coldness had tiptoed into New York City as the winter bird had begun weaving its nest. It let out chirps in the air and I swallowed them in, my tummy tumbling. I walked through the neighborhood of New York University, my heart bustling, just like the city. It was November 11th, 2012, and of course,

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Backyard Woods

by Isabel Bautista

The woods — a still atmosphere Yet teeming with life under the surface, The gnarled tree branches, The moist ground underneath, The decayed perfume fragrance, Tumbled in the breeze. We moved forward, No direction in mind, Following a course that was not predetermined, Shoes barely making a sound, On the slippery glistening leaves That did

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Mailman

by Akash Mehta

When they come, they come in boxes. They’re do-it-yourself kits, packaged with batteries and styrofoam, Goody bags the siblings get at birthday parties, perhaps, Or the dog the family eagerly promises to love and take care of forever— Go fetch, they say, the red rubber ball a blur against the blue background.   First, he

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The Pear Tree

by Caroline Harris

I stroke a lily’s petals Rub dew between my fingertips And watch the day blossom before me As a bumblebee whispers her prayers To the branches of a pear tree.   Golden light streams through the twisted branches Hummingbirds and seeds Drifting through the summer solstice.   On this day of blessed idleness I lie

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River Water

by Mannu Sharma

Slowly, slowly straight and down, It shines like a brand new crown, It passes from every town, But sometimes it changes into brown.   It never stops, just flows and flows. Thousands of flowers along it grow. It is essential everyone knows. It can sometimes be bad if reaches the nose.   It offers its

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