Here is this great multitude of sky.
And suddenly little darkened, precarious bodies dart across it,
All perfectly grouped together,
A little mass of beating wings.
Why are they not scattered like stars?
There is plenty of room, little birds.
Why do you not break away from your crowded chaos,
And free yourselves?
You have the whole world,
Space and air and a glimpse
Of this fragile thing we call eternity.
And yet you stay together,
And travel slowly across the shadow of spring.
Now, more than ever,
There is the urge to create something beautiful.
But do not do it alone.
Because those birds go on flying
With a silent, ever-present awareness
Of how easy it is to lose yourself
In this vast expanse.
And you, meaningless black speck of memories,
Will be replaced when you fall.
You will not go unnoticed if you decide to leave,
And drown yourself in forever’s
Infinite shades of blue.
You are not alone,
If you decide to stay.
Eliza Moore, age 13, is an eighth grader who attends The Center for Creative Arts in Chattanooga, Tennessee. She loves reading, writing, and visiting the ocean.
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