Meraki Magazine - Edition 3

MERAKI MAGAZINE (LITERATURE & ART)

EDITION THREE

MAY, 2021

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“MERAKI” [may-rah-kee] This is a word that modern Greeks often use to de scribe doing something with soul, creativity, or love -- when you put “something of yourself” into what you’re doing, whatever it may be.

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“CREATIVITY TAKES COURAGE.”

- HENRI MATISSE

Meraki Magazine has a passion and devotion to creative writing and visual arts with a desire to provide a safe space that connects people to stories, poems, photography and various forms of art. The staff seeks to highlight the talent of artists within the community who pour themselves into their creative work so that readers may know and experience the joy, beauty, and love of the arts.

Thank you so much to everyone who submitted pieces- we know it takes courage to share what you’ve created to the rest of the world. It takes courage just to be creative.

Sincerely, The Meraki Magazine Team

STAFF 3

TABLE OF CONTENTS POETRY Echo, delaney Haskel..

Sabaism, anonymous...

Conviction, anonymous...

Comet, Ian Henderson...

Cinnamon, Emma Harris...

Haiku, anonymous...

... 6 ... 7 ... 8 ... 10 ... 11 ... 12

SHORT STORIES & CHAPTERS ... 14 Book Bandit, anonymous...

The Power of Waiting, Destiny Coleman... ... 16 ...

The Power of Healing the Inner Child, ... 17 Destiny Coleman...

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY Plague Doctor, Lexi Vick...

Electric, Lexi Vick..

The Dragon, Natalia Hunt...

Elegant, Emma Dunn...

A Chicken, anoymous...

A Daisy, anonymous...

Pumpkins, anonymous...

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... 19 ... 20 ... 21 ... 22 ... 23 ... 24 ... 25

POETRY

STAFF EDITORIAL 5

ECHO

DELANEY HASKEL, 9

My life to you and the heavens above Protection of your keys, my concern Disposition, innocent as a dove Devoted to you beyond any return The queen and her swords executed me My voice, identity, taken for you The rest of my curse, I could not foresee A merciless love is what I pursue Seeing you nurtured my life, ascend in light Your vanity, shielded from my vision The utterance of them I’d to rewrite But you cast into eternal prison Your performance produced myself to starve Now I am merely a remaining oeuvre

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POETRY

SABAISM

ANONYMOUS

What could I have possibly done In this life or the last Which would grant me the power To call a star down from heaven And make him love me?

(What did I sacrifice, to be so loved) I must have been your most devoted worshipper A saint or prophet by the standards Of your dimensions—emptiness and energy; I must have thrown my whole life away For the chance to know what you are.

(Love must be more than burning) The call of my loneliness and adoration Must have reached your distant ears For your attention to be guided To the creature dying on one of the many planets On which you cast your grace and mercy.

(Was I worth more than the prayers and rituals) I must have looked up every night And recognized you amidst the heavens Because I knew you before I even saw you; You reminded me of specks of light Breathlessly battling the distance between us (My love is weak recognition and misguided thankfulness) I must have been grand or powerful I must have been noble or dangerous I must have been greater than I could possibly ever be To be privileged with your glance, your touch, your soul; You must think me something pure (Love is the art of dying; and stars have perfected it) POETRY

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CONVICTION ANNONYMOUS

Dear Lord, they say any temptation I ever felt, you have already felt for me; This is your chance to confess.

So tell me Lord, Are you afraid of the shadow people have made for you?

They called you God, Called you King, Called you Savior; Was there ever a moment You wanted to shake in fear, Shake your head, Shake your fist, “A man! I am just a man!

I am a man just like you, Only I am going to die, And you will live forever and ever.”

Dear Lord Jesus, Do you know the feeling of grappling for ropes you can only hope are there?

They called you Messiah, Called you Christ Called you Immanuel; Did you even know what those words meant When they were first thrown at you?

Was there ever a moment you Could only turn your head to the skies, “God! God! Dear Father above, Is this who I’m supposed to be?

What does this all even mean?”

Jesus Christ, Do you feel the deep settling pit of heavy regret?

They called you All-powerful, Called you All-knowing, Called you Ever-present;

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POETRY

Was there ever a moment You woke from some indifferent slumber To look at all there was And feel some inescapable unease, “What have I done?

What have I let them do?

Why has it turned out this way?

What have I let them turn me into?”

Hence, Lord, I make my confession, I confess I am caught up in temptation Caught up And I sin I sin I sin Tell me Lord, Have you ever sinned?

POETRY

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COMET

IAN HENDERSON, 12

He streaks across Nyx, Her moonlit domain, Spark’ling stardust trail, His sheen can bewitch One regarding Dane, With his dazz’ling tail.

“Oh how beautiful!”

His beholders claim, The light grows dimmer.

Ode to the faithful, Only the most tame, See his best shimmer.

I shimmer back.

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POETRY

CINNAMON

EMMA HARRIS, 12

Today tasted like cinnamon, Cozy & comforting, For I curled up by the fire with a book, While the clouds were outside doing their coloring.

Stomping & lashing outside with vigor, While I was hugged by soft cotton, That hid me from the world’s bitter tears, And let my heart soften.

The fire was crisp against my skin, And the thin paper was laced through my fingers, The deep content I felt within, Still lovingly lingers.

Thuds on the roof lulled me to sleep, And sweet dreams clouded my ears,

Washing away worry, Along with all of my fears.

POETRY

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HAIKU

ANONYMOUS

Sunday Six pm The Lights Off The Bed Empty God tell Grandpa Hi Rays of Light Above Searing Heat Piercing My Skin A Breeze Moves Through The Comfort of Home The Feeling of Constant Belonging A Warm Hug of Affection A Very Hard Seat Extremely Eager Person The Food is Ready

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POETRY

SHORT STORIES & CHAPTERS

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BOOK BANDIT ANONYMOUS

SORTING THE library was my life. It was all I knew how to do. Keep the shelves

organized and make sure all the books are there. Books only come in and none go out. Ever since Him and his friends took over, they had ordered all of the books in the country to be sent here. Only He could have all the knowledge, no one else.

The library was a tightly locked place, guarded by many. No one wanted to know what would happen if you got caught in there without a card. I was one of the lucky few. It wasn’t that much access, but it gave me the ability to get a hold of all the books on the shelves in the open. I couldn’t go into the back. Not that I wanted to anyway, it was foreboding.

My fingers traced over the titles, reading them in my head. Not that it mattered anyways, they were always in the same order. “The Long Winter…..Snow Falling On Cedars….The Winter’s Tale….The Lion In Winter-”. I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks. Backtracking, instead of seeing the blue cover of The Winter’s Tale by William Shakespeare, there was empty space. I quickly felt sick to my stomach.

It’s not possible! It wasn’t possible! No one could steal a book and anyone would not see it! He would get absolutely furious if he knew one of his books was gone. He would make everyone’s life miserable.

I frantically searched the shelves, moving past several other keepers. I must have done it at least a hundred times. No sign of the piece of literature. Soon several others cried out that three more books were gone. The October Country by Ray Bradbury, The Summer Of The Osprey by Elisabeth Oglivie, and The Keepers Of The Spring by Fred Pearce were all missing.

We tore through the many shelves, hoping they were just misplaced by some novice.

There was a clear nervousness that hung in the air as everyone searched frantically.

The library was searched from top to bottom almost a thousand times over. A few hours felt like an agonizing eternity. But it was no use. So with heavy hearts and clammy hands, I pressed the button that would raise the alarm that books had been stolen.

Now we could only wait. ~~~ A few weeks had passed since the four books disappeared. He was furious like I assumed, and everyone was searched but no one had the books. I thought I would be let go, but thankfully I still kept my job. Johnny, Evie, and Laura weren’t so lucky, as He claimed them incompetent keepers. No one has heard from them since they were dragged out kicking and screaming that they were innocent. No one wanted to ask any questions either.

It had taken forever to rearrange the books, as one of the rules was everything had to be perfect. All in order by whatever he had proclaimed. No book could stick out. Books only sat on the shelves with other books like them. We were taught as children that He was the epitome of perfection, we must be like him to be happy and that He is the way. So no one could know that someone was able to steal from his “perfect” and secure library. No one could be smarter than Him. I was first there that morning, and I showed my card to the guards on duty. They studied it with scrutiny like they always did, then scanned it with their machine. The greencheck mark appeared and the doors slid open as they handed me my card. The dust hung in

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STORIES & CHAPTERS

the air as I made the rounds making sure that no books were missing. I walked and I walked, hearing more and more keepers enter in for the day. I thought I was in the clear when I came to one of the last bookshelves.

I let out a scream of surprise, as it wasn’t possible. Not a second time. Many other keepers ran to me at the sound of my scream. Some gasped and a few even fainted at the sight we all shared. An entire shelf of authors from the Victorian era were completely gone.

They were cleaned out so well that the dust was barely disturbed. The back of the shelve had the words crudely carved in large letters, “I AM THE BOOK BANDIT. KNOWLEDGE IS FOR ALL”.

I gulped, with my hands cold and clammy. Does this person realize what they have just done? They think they are helping by stealing His books, oblivious to our toils. It didn’t make sense. Knowledge was just for Him…right? ~~~ A month had come and gone, and more keepers had been dropped and several more hired. Each keeper was put in charge of three new ones to show them the ropes. I had been assigned three named Jake, Ellie, and Rosanne. Jake was upbeat, but I could tell he had a hard time paying attention. Ellie looked like she didn’t want to be there at all. Rosanne was just plain old mean.

“Count the books Jake, see if they are all there”. He nodded “okay, got it!” and started to count the books across the shelf. They were children’s books, which would probably make anyone question why He would want to know that animals say Goodnight To The Moon.

“They’re all here” Jake said at the end of the shelf, his eyes sparkling with confidence.

“I’m sure of it!”

I pulled out a copy of what I thought was The Magic Treehouse #10, Ghost Town At Sundown, something that was a favorite of my grandma’s. “So close, yet so far” I chuckled, suspecting to hear groans but only silence. All I got were weird looks. “Um….have you keepers spend too much inside?” Ellie asked with a raised eyebrow. Confused, I looked at my hand only to see a sheet of paper. Unrolling it furiously, I saw it read “KNOWLEDGE IS FOR ALL”.

No. Impossible.

How could they have stolen it right out of my hand without me noticing? Were they even human? A ghost?

“So the rumors are true, someone is stealing books right out from under your noses” Rosanne sneered, “some fortress”. I ignored her snarky comment, more focused on how the bandit could have taken the book without me noticing. Immediately turning on my heels, I was going to make sure that this wasn’t some practical joke. The three novices just followed.

Going by procedure, I ordered all novices to be searched. Soon many guards were upon the scared beginners, who were very confused about what was happening. I was hoping one of them would come back with the piece of literature. Yet, I had a feeling they didn’t have it when I saw their stunned expressions that it had happened for a third time. I gulped. “It’s not possible” I said hoarsely, “it’s not possible” but it was by the piece of paper in my hand.

Whoever this thief was, they had to be stopped.

STORIES & CHAPTERS

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THE POWER OF WAITING DESTINEY COLEMAN, 9

I REMEMBER being in about 3rd grade, and seeing many of my friends and class-

mates get into relationships. While I had a desire to do this, nobody had a desire to have this kind of relationship with me. This stuck with me. In this same manner, I was very impatient to win certain competitions and participate in different activities . This discouraged me, and made me upset. I didn’t want to wait. I want to do everything now. If only I had the knowledge I have now to know that God must train you and build you up to receive your gifting. It is important to know that God is fully equipping you for your calling. Not everything is going to come overnight. You must train yourself to know that God has blessings for you beyond comparison. As children of God, we must also learn to not settle. By settling, you are giving the devil room in your life by showing him that you are willing to accept anything, especially if it comes quickly. In short, it is important not to settle , and to be patient with your desires in life. God is preparing you for your blessing! Don’t rush it!! You are growing!

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STORIES & CHAPTERS

THE POWER OF HEALING THE INNER CHILD DESTINEY COLEMAN, 9

DO YOU remember a time when you experienced pain in The early years of your life?

Well, damaging situations that occur in the early years of your life can really add up and stick with you for years to come. Since the frontal cortex is underway in development, this can affect your emotional growth. This can lead to trauma, anxiety, and various other mental illnesses. So, why is this important? The significance of healing the inner child is that we carry the hurt of our childhood into our present day. In order to free ourselves from this pain, we may need therapy, deliverance, or just someone to talk to. Believe me, it is not easy to open up and become vulnerable about your past experiences, but this is a vital step in letting go of our past traumas. We must also remember that it is important to let go and remember, God gives us new blessings every morning. It is not the same day, age, year that you were hurt today. God brought you through and he will do it again! He will guide you through every step. The inner child is the most vulnerable part of you, it’s time to heal!

STORIES & CHAPTERS

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ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

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ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

THE PLAGUE DOCTOR

LEXI VICK, 12

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

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ELECTRIC

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ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

THE DRAGON NATALIA HUNT, 7

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

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ELEGANT

EMMA DUNN, 7

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ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

A CHICKENArt (Pastels) : ANONYMOUS

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

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Photography: A DAISY ANONYMOUS

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ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

PUMPKINS ANONYMOUS

ART & PHOTOGRAPHY

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WRITING PROMPT FOR THE NEXT EDITION

creativemagazine@wcastl.org 26

THE END

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