The Elephant in the Room

Orange fades into red as day fades into night.

Days pass, collecting like sand at the bottom of a glass, But time pauses as the brain slows to a stop.

The perfect center between the light and dark

An apprehensive, uncomfortable, lost state

With the Decision stiffly in the air, each option competing to be chosen

Rolling hills mirror the rotating, heedless mind.

Swirling with thoughts each hidden by a steely facade, The supposed strength and grace of these animals

Are annulled with a look at the wobbling legs

Knobby joints and cruel glare directed at its brother.

The Decision haunts their gaze, pervading each step with unease.

Nearing collapse with all the weight

Legs entangled, darkness seeping from their bodies

Haunted by their past mistakes not seen

Carried heavily on shoulders, with each fault attracting shadows

That follow every move, find every mind

The Decision feeding, idolizing mistakes to be driving forces of choice

Brought to different heights by leaning limbs

A supposed new perspective brings emotions to the brim. Each step feels heavy with weight, feet brushing

This barren void of life, land with no signs, Thoughts vying for release from this war inside the brain, The Decision leading the battles, causing the fights.

The deciding factor a mere centimeter away

Yet unattainable, as it stands is the middle of the wind One second from being blown to the west, Far from the grasp of wanting, needing hands

The shadows calculating the correct time to appear

Driven by the Decision, the deadline fast approaching

However an offering of peace between the people A mutual agreement of support and friendship

The need for a light in the dark finally recognized Together they wait in apprehension, In protection, in patience for the sound of the gong To alert that the Decision is made

The earth is warming, we can see. Our planet is crying out. It’s not a dream. The earth, our home, is heating up, A crisis that we must interrupt.

Earth is like a burning flame. Its burning core, a heated game. The forests burn. The animals flee. Our greed is the cause the world can see.

Her cries ignored, her fate unsure, A future hesitation, we must endure. The planet's voice, a mournful cry, As the earth sighs

The time is now to take a stand, To save our planet, hand and hand, To make a change and shift our ways, To reduce waste and end this phase.

The polar bears are losing their homes.

We need to act now before it's too late Or face the consequences of our own fate. Mia Urie ‘25

A once blue sky turned white, With dancing flakes appearing in the light, Floating, flying through the air, Each one unique and rare. Falling gently, landing effortlessly, growing as one Through the morning and into the night until taken by the sun.

The softened powder puddles, pools, and blends, Trapped and confined, it seems to no end. Until she sinks and deepens into the earth, The melted snow fuels life and new birth.

A single stream goes astray, wanting more, finding a way. She fights and pries, forges the growth, lashing out, a hidden display.

All at once, stolen by the mouth of a beast, Being pushed and pulled, torn, and ripped, but not scared in the least. An endless whisper bounces off the rocks,

The once small stream is no longer imprisoned in a tiny box.

Stretching and winding through grove and tree, She is now abundant and free.

Suddenly, the earth drops from below, And she is plunging, tumbling with the flow. Falling for an eternity before submerging, She twirls through a peaceful whirlpool until diverging. Relieved to be home in a familiar steady stream, She resumes her journey for months, nay years, living her dream.

Snaking and slithering, she continues in bliss, When all of a sudden, the river opens into a salty abyss. With no burden of a current, she cannot be restrained, So, she wanders and roams, unrestricted and unchained. She glides through the waves, the tide, the never-ending sea, Soaring, exploring, she can choose whatever she wants to be.

Bountiful, plentiful, beautiful, and strong, God’s canvas is where this brilliant blue paint belongs. Vicious, yet gentle; silent, yet roaring, An unpredictable, magnificent masterpiece meant for adoring. A home to some, present in all - even in the ones who fought her. She sustains our lives, we are children of the water.

Claire VanMater ‘25

A never quiet home now barely there to see. A never silent yard now barely there for me. A never empty couch echoes what used to be, phantom scents of cookies, former catalysts of glee. Only remaining now are these nostalgic ghosts which I beg to set me free. Although it was once my happy place, clearly this house is not what it used to be.

The kitchen, now cobwebbed and dusty, once my center of stability. Here these granite countertops witnessed me gain and my grandmother lose her mobility. Memories of graduations and birthdays are the source of the room’s tranquility. As I wish seeing these memories again and again were within my ability, I beg my mind for just the slightest chance of stability. So, here I stand now wishing the house could give me back my tranquility.

This house, once a center of activity, is now a place where my memories hold me in captivity. Here her room is, a room I wish I could lay in for infinity. Much like when I was an infant, her doorpost watches over me, surveying the vicinity.

I thought we would be frozen here for a century, but the reality is I was not and nor was she, my memories are now a treasury.

I’ve learned time is my enemy, a deep void I have fallen into for which there is no remedy. My grandmother sits at the gates with Peter, but I still wish we’d both had the energy just for the time to toss a ball in the yard, just for the time to make one more memory. Instead, my conscience is my penalty, forcing me to face my regret is its specialty.

My newfound guilt prevents me from feeling zest. And though I know you’re finally at rest, your house now makes me feel like nothing but a guest.

Am I someone that you now detest?

Am I someone that you wish to dispossess?

My regret is here for the long haul, rendering me here, forever a guest.

For now, though, I will sink into the once comforting armchair and attempt to recall, here is where took my first fall, and here my grandmother ceased to be at all.

A reminder of what is to come is served from a ash-filled fireplace that captures my enthrall.

Returning to ash was never her worry, my grandmother never worried about death at all. But I stare into the wall, thinking maybe she nor this house does not want to answer my calls.

My grandmother is now free, yet her spirit will remain in these walls. Lucia Weid ‘25

Why Does the Earth Float?

Why does the Earth float? Could it be the skies and trees? Or maybe just like a simple breeze? Plenty of people live here on Earth Does that subtract everyone’s worth?

Maybe the Sky is filled with clouds, Just like earth is filled with crowds Pollution is a harmful thing, So let's come together to make the world sing.

Orange dims the bright sky, As the sun lowers and starts to sigh Is your everyday filled with joy, As we explore the world on our very own convoy?

We the people may decide To save the earth or let it die.

Although the sun still shows bright, Pollution may dim that light

Eventually, the sun will fade away, And Darkness will sieze the day. As everyone begins to sleep, The earth will always be there to keep. Paige Wenhold ‘25