Up in the Air vol. XII 2024-25

UpintheAir

Literary-Art Magazine

Volume XII 2024-25

Academy of Our Lady of Peace

Letter from the Moderator

Dear Readers,

I am pleased to introduce you to the 11th edition of Up in the Air. This year we invite you to experience student creativity through the lens of our theme, “Postcards from the Garden”. As the Leadership Team explored potential themes, they found themselves drawn to the image of a garden—vibrant, diverse, and alive A postcard allows one to capture an experience that you wish to share with others. Each submission in this issue is like a postcard. It is a small, heartfelt glimpse into a unique moment rooted in one’s own creativity.

This edition proudly debuts submissions from Saint Augustine High School students, as well as a collection from Ms. Tieg’s Art II class, and awardwinning essays recognized by the Kensington Public Library’s essay contest

Staying true to Up in the Air tradition, the Leadership Team has shown an unwavering passion for highlighting the talent within our OLP community. Though there were some complications along the way, their dedication was unstoppable! Each team member’s contribution enabled the pages to bloom with life. Now that everything has come together, I hope you feel the same sense of joy and discovery that we did while bringing this edition to life. Get ready to wander through a garden of imagination, where every postcard tells its own story.

Enjoy!

Mrs. MacManus Literary- Art Magazine Club Moderator

Letter from the Editor in Chief

To Our Readers,

Welcome to the 11th edition of Up in the Air! I could say this magazine came together effortlessly, like flowers blooming at dawn, but that would be a lie. It was more like gardening in the dark, with a spork. And yet, somehow, look at us now: a whole collection of poems, stories, art, and essays that feel like postcards from a garden that we built, one piece of creativity at a time. From brainstorm sessions filled with equal parts inspiration and snacks, to proofreading marathons and design debates that may or may not have involved too many fonts, our team worked so hard to bring this edition to life.

The theme, Postcards from the Garden, turned out to be more than a cute name. It became a way for us to dig into creativity (pun intended), and plant little pieces of ourselves into something bigger These pages are dreamy, thoughtful, quirky in the best way, and all of them are blooming with the individuality of the students who created them.

So, whether you're here to soak in the visuals, analyze the prose, or flip through, I hope this issue gives you something to hold onto. A moment, a feeling, maybe even a spark to make something of your own

From our garden to yours, Savannah Flores ‘25

Literary-Art Magazine Editor-in-Chief

Meet the Team

InannaArsova-Klejnot‘26(EditingTeamCo-Lead)

CynthiaBaylor‘27

IsabellaBayona‘25(LayoutTeamCo-Lead)

AlanaBridges‘27

AureliaDunne‘27

MariaPaolaEllis‘28

SavannahFlores‘25(Editor-in-Chief)

GwenGarcia‘27

NataliaGarcia-Diaz‘26

ValettaGrimm‘26

MilaHalvorson‘26

MonicaHuynh‘28

AbbyLis‘25(PublicityTeamLead)

GiuseLoverso‘28

CarolineO’Leary‘28

IxchelRomanMedina‘27(CompetitionTeamLead)

PenelopeMoreno‘25

HayleySmith‘26(LayoutTeamCo-Lead)

JordanStraub‘25(EditingTeamCo-Lead)

Table of Contents

9FlowerFindsintheMarket

Maria Paola Ellis ‘28

9bouquets!

Jordan Straub ‘25

10Flowers

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

11-12RobotsAgainstNatureandGardens

Iason Chang‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

13SunsetCliffs

Mrs. Monica Hickey, OLP Staff

13MorningBloom

Vivianne Garcia Burgueno ‘28

14ChapelGarden

Jeovanna Esquer ‘26

14SneakPeak

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

15blossomsofspring

Jordan Straub ‘25

15SunnySeat

Laraina Spaulding‘27

16RainingatthePalace

Jordan Straub ‘25

16Jeannines

Jordan Straub ‘25

17TheNewFlower

Vivianne Garcia Burgueno ‘28

18-20TheRealCage,MyMind

Inanna Arsova-Klejnot ‘26

21Flower

Samantha Hernandez ‘26

21LoveGrows

Hannah Wauson ‘25

22Petey

Mrs. Monica Hickey, OLP Staff

22UncleRonnie

Mrs. Monica Hickey, OLP Staff

23GoldenMemories

Romina Tellez ‘27

24PresentEndlessPossibilities

Abi Gant ‘28

25 Time-EchoedNarcissuses

Enzo Simon ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

26Stream

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

Table of Contents

27Tree

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

27VeinsOut

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

28ScarletSpikes

Diana Alexis Esparza-Martin ‘25

28Spikes

Ellie Sipper ‘25

29Nature’sGumdrops

Maria Paola Ellis ‘28

30-32QuiénFui,QuiénSeré,QuiénSoy

Gwen Garcia ‘27

32RipenedandRavaged

Sofia Arzate ‘25

33PiecesFromWithin

Bethany Isabella McDonald ‘26

34VeiledinVines

Devyn Delacruz ‘28

35CasaVerde

Jaya Kuldau ‘25

36LesFleurs

Sophia Bonde ‘25

37BeyondtheAbyss

Sofia Calatroni ‘25

37Refreshing

Sofia Calatroni ‘25

38LettheLightIn

Gwen Garcia ‘27

39-40APostcardfromMyYellowFlower

Victoria Galvan ‘28

40PerfectLighting

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

41YellowHope

Vivianne Garcia Burgueno ‘28

42MossWall

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

43Pond

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

44-45TimeHasn’tChangedtheMost BeautifulFlowerofAll

Gigi Gonzalez ‘25

46CitrusCharm

Alyssa Borboa Pimentel ‘25

Table of Contents (cont.)

47AMeadowBetweenMoments

Elizabeth Leicht ‘26

47GloomyBelltower

Ethan Simmons ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

48PinkSucculent

Ethan Simmons ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

48SmallWeed

Ethan Simmons ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

49ColorsandScentsofaFlowerGarden

Sofia Sisitki ‘27

50ASongofSpring

Natalie Eichelman ‘26

50WhiteFlower

Ethan Simmons ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

51WateryRose

Sofia Reyes ‘28

51YellowFlowers

Ethan Simmons ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

52IMetMyYoungerSelf

Elliot Smith ‘25

53TimeofPeace

Gwen Garica ‘27

54ADayinNantucket

Maria Paola Ellis ‘28

55Misfits

Caleb Bailey ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

57TheSecretGarden

Audrey Varol ‘28

58Nature’sHiddenCall

Abigail Danson ‘28

59ThePast,Present,andFuture

Veronica Konecke-Terrazas ‘28

61-62FromCrosstoCrown

Grace White ‘27

63EpiphanyofanEternalEden

Enzo Simon ‘27 (St. Augustine’s HS)

64-65yousay

Eloise Nguyen ‘26

67PastButterflies

Estella Diaz ‘27

68FutureButterflies

Ria Carr ‘28

69PastArtDeco

Sarah Ivanjack ‘27

70PastStuck

Jillian Crockett ‘28

71PastSunflowers

Valetta Grimm ‘26

Table of Contents (cont.)

FlowerFinds attheMarket

Maria Paola Ellis ‘28

bouquets

Jordan Straub ‘25

Flowers

Elijah Villafaña ‘27 |

RobotsAmongstNature andGardens

Iason Chang ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

RobotsAmongstNature andGardens

Iason Chang ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

RobotsAmongstNatureandGardens

Ianson Chang‘27 Saint Augustine’s High School

SunsetCliffs

Morning Bloom

Vivianne Garcia

Burgueno ‘28

Mrs. Monica Hickey

OLP Staff

SneakPeak

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

Chapel Garden

Jeovanna Esquer ‘26

Jordan Straub ‘25

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

rainingatthe palace

Jordan Straub ‘25

Jordan Straub‘25

Jeannine’s

TheNewFlower

Vivianne Garcia Burgueno‘28

TheRealCage,MyMind

Inanna Arsova-Klejnot‘26

We are all born free, all of us given wings we must learn to fly with

Yet as we grow, emerge from our chrysalis, transform Society weaves its steel web around us, A cage of judgment, expectations, responsibilities, hopes and fears, beliefs and perceived abilities The polished alloy bars too often wrought with hate the lock is shame the key is self-esteem

Clipping wings, contorting and breaking with vicious intent, creating something uniform, polished and distinctly lacking in all that is unique While enabling others’ wings to freely spread out, feathers unfettered

The divide becomes all the clearer: There tend to be three kinds of people in life, those that break the cage, those that escape it, and those that stay forever trapped within its familiar, cold embrace

TheRealCage,MyMind(cont.)

Inanna Arsova-Klejnot‘26

I never desired to be the first two; the cage was safe

I’d grown used to the feeling of the cold metal, pressing against my skin Become so numb, the frigidity had begun to almost feel warm

Still, over time the cage began to feel constricting, oppressive as I lost the will to bend to fit its mold at the expense of my own identity

So I stopped sitting with my chin tucked against my knees, fragile wings curled protectively around a wasted body, — abandoned trying to make myself as small as possible in order to lessen the pressure of the cages’ unforgiving bars I practiced unfurling my wings, stretching them as far as the cages’ cramped parameters would allow

Slowly but surely, the steel bars began to melt Molten lead, searing my skin, attempting to ooze into my bloodstream

Borrow into my bones, scorching my already crumpled wings Vicious in its defeat

However, the walls of the cage eventually disintegrated

TheRealCage,MyMind(cont.)

Inanna Arsova-Klejnot‘26

I couldn’t wait to fly, — even though I’d been born with delicate wings, barely strong enough to hold themselves up, let alone my own body — The possibilities seemed endless now that I was truly free

But something was terribly wrong Unsettling dread writhed beneath my translucent skin as I noticed in the distance tall, iron gates were appearing Revealing the restrictions of a larger enclosure

And suddenly I realized I wasn't born into a cage, I was born into a society with millions of cages

The world, a seemingly infinite Russian doll

Yet I was no longer worried For I knew the cages’ secret:

Their existence depended on my own acceptance of them as reality.

Hannah Wauson‘25

Flower

Samantha Hernandez ‘26

Petey

Mrs. Monica Hickey

OLP Staff

UncleRonnie

Mrs. Monica Hickey

OLP Staff

GoldenMemories

Romina Tellez ‘27

Every journey comes to an end, though it’s really sad to think about. I like to imagine how a tree grows. It starts as a tiny innocent seed, then sprouts and stretches its branches toward the blue and big sky. Eventually, the tree will die, but not without leaving something behind–a new seed, a new beginning.

As I’ve grown older, I have started to see myself, to discover who I am. I am learning my strengths and weaknesses through the risks I have taken and the experiences I have lived. It is comforting to know these things because they give me a sense of peace about my future. Every decision I make feels like it matters, that it makes a great impact in my life. Every single moment, whether it is participating in class, trying a new sport, or stepping out of my comfort zone, has meaning. I have learned a lot from these choices. Those moments, big and small, taught me perseverance and confidence.

My life is filled with golden memories–the kind that stick with you forever. Incredible moments with my family and friends have all left their mark on me. I do not find it as a need to write them down in my journal or take selfies; they are engraved in my mind. Golden memories do not have to be perfect, they just have to feel real. I know I won’t be a teenager forever. One day, this chapter of my life will end. I will look back and miss the little things, like stressing over a test or laughing with my friends about random things. But I am fine with it, because I am enjoying everything in my life. All those golden memories will stay with me forever.

Life feels like a series of seasons, each with its own purpose. My teenage years feel like spring—full of growth, discovery, and color. As I move forward, I’ll carry the lessons and memories from this time with me. New golden memories will come, but I’ll never forget the ones I’m making now.

In the end, life isn’t about big achievements. It’s about the everyday moments—the laughter, the connections, the things that make us human. It’s about growing, like that tree, and leaving something behind. Even when the journey ends, the love, memories, and kindness we share will live on. So, I’ll keep making golden memories. I’ll embrace every stage of life and live with gratitude. Because every journey, no matter how long or short, has its own beauty.

PresentEndlessPossibilities

Abi Gant‘28

Time-EchoedNarcissuses

Enzo Simon‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

I shall not be compared to a summer’s day, for superior I am!

And though I’ve no companion, neither doth Light, Its dim dazzle, no doubt, a mere shade of my Glory.

Far above those wolves of plain face, I’m free –

In speech, hark to this lark offering a hymn. “Samson. Solomon,” both but a pseudonym,

A sin to touch, lest slaughter this Pure lamb, Jealous of Fortune they themselves keep away.

If looks be Wealth, I am like Mali, Cursing all else – I, deformity’s folly.

On and on, listing that and this,

Stopped by nil for I am Adonis!

“Pretty privilege” the envious always say, Drowning himself, his beauty masks Slime.

Ripples in water doth ruin reflection: My bodily shrine attracts Juliet by sight.

But remember this Fool who’s known throughout time,

“Beware, beware!” Echoes of deathly obsession!

Stream

Elijah Villafaña ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

Tree

VeinsOut

Laraina Spaulding‘27

Elijah Villafaña‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

ScarletSpikes

Diana Alexis Esparza-

Martin ‘25

Spikes

Ellie Sipper ‘25

Nature’sGumdrops

Maria Paola Ellis‘28

QuiénFui,QuiénSeré,QuiénSoy

Gwen Garcia ‘27

I was 6 and I liked to draw, so Mama made me join la caja. I went every Saturday at 10 in the morning ready to paint whatever my teachers told me to draw. There was Alicia, there was Sheram, there was Maria, and then there was Paola. Paola had been an artist since she was little. And she said that in middle school she got her nickname Viola because she’d break the rules. I thought she was very cool and very good at art. She taught me about collaging and about pop art, she taught me about highschool and art careers. There were other girls in that class, Emilia and Liz, but they didn't see Paola with respectful eyes.

Paola and I made a cactus sculpture, it had a spider and a snake, but that was thrown in the trash years ago. Paola and I made a painting of a cat, a blue cat named Stitches who lived next door to me, but that was also thrown in the trash years ago.

Out of all of my art teachers Paola was my favorite. She showed me how to sew in that one painting, and she showed me how to use a hot glue gun on that other painting. Paola Viola, Paola Viola, she showed me how to stand out and showed me how to rebel against the world. Yes, I did like Paola, but I've not seen her in years. Where is Paola Viola? I say to myself every now and then when I paint.

Who are you? The counselor said, who are you in your school? The counselor said. I hate this question, I hate it when I’m at my siblings’ birthday party and they ask me that, I hate it when I ask myself that. I do know who I am, my name is Gwen Renee. I like to draw, I’m bad at math, and I try to rhyme. But that’s not what they ask. No, they ask who I want to be, they ask me what I'll be in three years, they ask me what I want to study. And I never answer, I always answer no se to those questions. Lawyer, doctor, artist, mother, that last one is the one I always say no to…So when my Mama asks me what college I'll go to, or what I’ll do, I always say no se.

Gwen Garcia ‘27

Claudia and Tristan already graduated, Claudia is a teacher in Mexico, and Tristan is studying psychology and music. She decided to study that because she wanted to help. He decided to study that because he liked how it sounded. So how do I choose… Lawyer, doctor, artist, mother. None sound nice. I want to live comfortably, and I also don't want to stay home and look out the window. I want to live actively, but I also don't want to work from 9 to 5. When I look at my Mama and Papa I want to give back to them all they gave to me and more. I want to give my brother and sister all they gave to me and more. Too much pressure, too much pressure… I have to pick now they say, ahora they say. But In reality I don't know who I want to be. I am a 14 year old girl who is getting asked who she wants to be; isn’t that foolish?

Long and straight like water streams, golden and thick like honey. My precious hair that Mama combed and braided. I hated it, it has to go… Mama lo quiero cortar. Why, why, why, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

Short and dark like branches in the fall, the scissors in my hand sharp and warped. No longer long and straight, no longer gold and thick. But I didn't hate it. I felt like a different person. I felt unique.

Mama, my clothes don't fit anymore, they haven't for a while now. Baggy and saggy, tight and white. Mama got me a new dress, do you like it she said. I do, I lied. I don't know where else I should hide it. Where's your old dress Mama says, I lost it, no me acuerdo, that's what I say.

Hidden clothes and short hair, but I don't feel any different. Mama, I want to have my golden locks again, I want my water stream hair. Mama, I want my old dress back, I want my tight and white clothes.

QuiénFui,QuiénSeré,QuiénSoy(cont.)

Gwen Garcia ‘27

What I did is forgotten by my family, forgotten by my friends. But what I did was like an alarm clock on the right side of my bed. Beeping each day reminding me who I wanted to be. Those scissors and those clothes, I am now happy I did it. At least now my alarm clock is not constant, and at least now my mind is clear. Every time I brush my locks, I see those dark branches. And now I'm sure that I don't like the branches in the fall.

RipenedandRavaged

Sofia Arzate ‘25

CasaVerde

Jaya Kuldau ‘25

LesFleurs

Sophia Bonde ‘25

Beyondthe Abyss

Sofia Calatroni‘25

Refreshing

Sofia Calatroni ‘25

LettheLightIn

Gwen Garcia ‘27

APostcardFromMyYellowFlower

Victoria Galvan ‘28

Waking up from a silent dream

I hear the melody of your beautiful voice sing to the bluebirds surrounding I wish that I could keep you close and never let go

I can barely open my eyes

The rays from the sun so strong and bright, able to illuminate the darkest corner

And I realize that for me, you’re like the sun

Being the light that guides my path

Impossible to grasp

We run through the field full of life

Every flower recently bloomed

I feel my heart dance to the sound of your laugh

I run faster after you

You laugh harder

And I would give anything for time to stop

I catch you and hold you fondly in my arms

The orange and red sunset behind you

You in that white dress that sways with the air

A scene from a fairytale

It feels like I have an angel in my arms

And looking into your eyes I see love

When I’m with you every smile comes from deep within my soul

I wish to live that day forever

But all I have left are the postcards that we wrote to each other that unforgettable night

You said to read it once you were gone

I hoped that day would never come…

APostcardFromMyYellowFlower(cont.)

Victoria Galvan ‘28

I thought life cruel

When I dared to read it

You said…

“Even if I’m not there, I want you to smile. Find my presence in the sun and feel my love in the flowers.”

And the heavy sadness left my heart for a while

I took care of our garden

Found your presence in the yellow flowers

And even as winter falls

In every blooming yellow flower, you will always be with me

PerfectLighting

Laraina Spaulding ‘27

Vivianne Garcia

MossWall

Elijah Villafaña‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

Pond

Elijah Villafaña‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

Gigi Gonzalez ‘25

When I opened my eyes, I could feel a wave of calm wash over me. A wave of calm that I hadn’t felt in the longest time.

The postcard was still clenched in my hand, that was the only thing that hadn’t changed. I couldn’t say the same for my surroundings. No longer was I in the dusty, cobweb filled basement. The worn wooden floorboards beneath my feet were replaced with soft earth, and the dusty smell replaced with the gentle smell of flowers and nostalgia. The last time I had smelled this….was with her.

I hesitantly took a couple of steps, feeling like I was stuck in a dream. A dream I had thought I could never go back to. The only things that surrounded me were acres of wildflowers, trees, and the calm that I feared would leave me once more.

After a couple of long moments of wandering around, the breeze picked up. But it wasn’t chilly, it was warm. A pleasant, warm breeze you could feel when the spring season was just right, and you spent it with the right person.

“There you are, I’ve been waiting for you.”

That familiar voice. That voice I had tried so desperately to not forget. I turned around quickly, and there she was. She looked like how I remembered her, not how I last saw her. All cold and stiff.

Tears began to fill my eyes before I could even process it was even happening. I took a few steps closer to her, and reached to touch her. Before I knew it, my arms were around her, the post card in my hand falling in the grass. The tears I had held in for so long were falling, but I didn’t care. Her hug was warm. She was warm. She was better than any sunny day I had spent throughout my life.

After a long hug, we broke away, and her hands went to touch my face. I tried to speak, but the tears were stronger than my voice.

TimeHasn’tChangedtheMostBeautifulFlowerofAll

(Cont.)

Gigi Gonzalez ‘25

“I’ve missed you greatly. I’m sorry that I left you so soon. I know we had so much more to do, so many milestones to accomplish.” She said, her voice gentle as she wiped my eyes.

I shook my head with whatever strength I had, and looked into her eyes. “No…no I could never be angry with you. I was angry at the fact that your time was taken with you.” I then recalled the note on the back of the postcard. “This garden holds the key to everything.”

She was my everything, and more. I was being given a second chance with her, and I wasn’t going to lose this chance. Like I had lost her.

I gently brushed her hair away from her face. A habit I had done for her for as long as I can remember.

“You’re so beautiful. I missed this, I missed you. I don’t know how much time I have here with you, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t spend every moment with you.”

I took a moment to catch my breath, and gather myself a little more. I hadn’t cried this hard since I felt her pass in my arms.

“You’re the most beautiful flower here, my love. The others can’t compete. They never could.”

She laughed quietly, wiping her eyes as she pressed her forehead against mine.

“That’s where you’re wrong, my dear. You’re the most beautiful here. Time hasn’t changed the most beautiful flower of all. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

At that, we said no more. Our lips found themselves, and for the first time in what felt like eternity, I too was at peace. The End.

Alyssa Borboa Pimentel‘25

CitrusCharm

AMeadow

Between Moments

Elizabeth Leicht ‘26

Gloomy

Belltower

Ethan Simmons‘27

PinkSucculent

Ethan Simmons ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

SmallWeed

Ethan Simmons ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

ColorsandScentsofaFlowerGarden

Sofia Sisitki ‘27

ASongof Spring

Natalie Eichelman‘26

WhiteFlower

Ethan Simmons‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

Sofia Reyes ‘28

YellowFlowers

Ethan Simmons ‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

WateryRose

I MET MY YOUNGER SELF

I met my younger self for coffee today She was 20 minutes early, and so was I. She had her hair in a messy ponytail and I wore mine down. She talked about her soccer team. I showed her my cheer team. She just wanted to be happy and loved. I showed her my best friends She told me how much she loved to traveled, I smiled and said me too. I hope one day we meet again.

TimeofPeace

Gwen Garcia ‘27

ADayinNantucket

Maria Paola Ellis‘28

Misfits

Caleb Bailey

‘27

Saint Augustine’s High School

Us misfits, we Don’t fit, Us misfits, Won’t ever belong, Us misfits, have been Stuck all along, This Can’t be it.

All the locks, the Immovable groups; Praying becomes a passion, When joining is Not an option; Walking in Painful circles, creating Hoops Hoping for something to Hit. Waiting anxiously, maybe, it might click, Like a clock, tick, tick, tick.

Misfits realize... life Ain’t lit.

Break the Chains! Smash the headphones! Hear!

All misfits, we must, Stop fearing fear.

ART COMPETITION Winners

TheSecretGarden

Audrey Varol ‘28

First Place

Nature’sHiddenCall

Abi Danson‘28

Second Place

ThePast,Present,andFuture

Veronica Konecke-Terrazas ‘28

Third Place

WRITING COMPETITION Winners

FromCrosstoCrown

Grace White‘27 |

First Place

What does love truly feel like?

Is love supposed to be dreamlike?

Why does love feel given but forbidden?

Where is my garden, if it is hidden?

I wander, so lost in my reality, searching around to find the Garden key.

I look to the sky, to find the light where Your angels take flight.

The devil lingers in my shadows, but you clothed me, with Your clothes. Where you carry my Cross, conquering my endless thoughts.

You text me on my phone, where you rebuild my broken bones. Saying, I have called you by name: you are mine. (Isaiah 43:1 NABRE)

Your love intertwined with Your Garden full of vine.

You give me the chance to climb, where darkness overtook me when I was blind.

You send down the Garden key, with angels singing across the Red Sea.

You send me to Heaven, my Promise Land, my Garden of Eden, where my soul and helplessness weaken.

Your breath of hope, made my weary soul alive.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life. (John 3:16 NABRE)

FromCrosstoCrown(cont.)

Grace White‘27

Now I live with Your Crown, in Your Paradise, with everlasting peace, with no price. Where I conquer my sins with Your mighty blow of the winds.

As I walk through my garden, there I run to You, where my sins pardon.

My sins turn into flowers, where I spend time with you for hours.

The sun looks upon me and smiles, where I carried my Cross for miles

The wind of the Holy Spirit wraps me in warmth,

With every breath, my life is transformed

I used to be afraid of my baby roar. Turning my back from Your love, but wanting more.

So I practice my prayers and songs, and I learn my wrongs.

My voice sings Your praise while my stubborn willfulness now obeys

I scream with my mighty roar, saying, To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul, my God, in you I trust; do not let me be disgraced; do not let my enemies gloat over me

(Psalm 25:2 NABRE)

EpiphanyofanEternalEden

Enzo Simon‘27 Saint Augustine’s High School

Second Place

Venture forth gaily for victuals so vital.

Behold each Fruit in this bacchanalian ballet:

Grapes of every color drunk in this recital. airs of Jazz apples brighten the once blue day. Choirs of cherries, never playing second fiddle, Low-hanging fruit tempts from the trees. Bushels of berries, Jewels in the middle! Sticky and Sweet, they beckon birds and bees. Oft-neglected Vegetable, remember thy merit! “An iceberg of lettuce, drowning all flavor!” Is watery, duplicitous, and lacking in wit. Instead, reward thyself and receive the favor purifying thy temple and enjoying th veryday beans and assorted greens in However, disparage not this Forgotten Man’s sustenance, from a time before Devolve, devolve, and halt its En Duty, our duty, to keep it well-fe Supply its demand and watch it so As fruits from our Father did once be Lest Murder the remnants of man ’ s go

Is’t our nature to War and Rift

Hark the lark and the holy dove Who fly o ’ er yet still live in love

With our beautiful garden, inspired fro

yousay

Eloise Nguyen‘26 Third Place

you say time is nothing more than a spoiled child

unbothered by the weight of its’ burden, coddled since birth it dances throughout others lives without a care.

i try to pretend to be unaffected by its motions but with each passing day, it becomes harder and harder to ignore that I'm growing a little older, and a bit more bitter

far beyond my prime and browned from the mold of time i age far beyond my peak, sour grapes waiting on the vine wrinkled rotten, seemingly forgotten

yet you say me you love me that you will love me, for as long as you can

life together, lined up on supermarket shelves, lost in the rhythm of the marvelously mundane was never our plan

still you say you dream of a future a future where we lie side by side a garden of everything lost to time a place where words are rendered useless a mutual understanding persists. savoring the silence, dreaming of a better world, you fantasist

let the years pass by in this garden of peace, fermenting into something new aged wine telling of all we ’ ve endured now i knew you loved me too

yousay(cont.)

Eloise

Nguyen‘26

in this garden growing older is by no means a lost, som fleet we’l

you say together our lives have finally been made complete

COLLAGE COLLECTION

ART II Class

Ms. Tiegs

PastButterflies

Estella Diaz ‘27

Future Butterflies

2 0 2 6

Past Art Deco

PastStuck

Jillian Crockett ‘28

PastSunflowers

Valetta Grimm ‘26