Waiting…

 

Amen! by: Jael N. ‘25

As I grew up in a religious community

It’s hard to be set free

Especially when your ancestors fought for their rights

But still had to pay the price

One thing they had to look up to

The God who protects me and you

That’s why I scream “Amen”

Because it can show where we have been.  

 

 

Waiting  by: Fernanda P. ‘25

The sun beating on us

 

While waiting for the special sound

 

My mom tapping her mug

Impatiently while waiting.

 

We wait and wait.

 

Finally a quiet peck,

Then another.

 

Then a whole chorus

Of the woodpecker,

Pecking our tree

 

We sit happily

At the thought of

The nice warm day

And the soothing

Sound.  

 

 

Fabric by: Afsana D. ’23

I believe

That everyone

Is a unique square of fabric

A 4 by 4 square

No one is more

No one is less.

See the thing about the fabric is,

Everyone’s is different.

Like we are.

Each strand that makes them

Is different.

Some are glowing,

Some are dull.

Some sparkle in the daylight

Others in the moonlight.

Some have images on them

Others don’t.

But lately i’ve noticed something frightening

About these squares;

they’re unraveling.

They’re falling apart.

Either some other squares try

To pull the others strands

Or the squares

Just pull on it themselves

Almost as if

They want to leave.

They want to go.

Some are slowly

Losing their light

Losing the sparkle

That makes them special

Some are getting new strands

That no one’s ever seen before

And no one knows how to deal with it.

We need to look around

With a needle in hand

And help these squares

Get back together

Help them fix things up

We can’t lose them

They may be changing

But they shouldn’t go because of that.

These squares are changing.

The world is too.

I’m keeping up with it.

Are you?

Seamstress by: Afsana D. ’23

I think that

We should all

Be seamstresses.

We should all

Help

The others

We should all

Patch things up

For the better.

I know that I

Am trying to be a seamstress.

But it cannot

Just be me.

The world is changing

There are more colors on the wheel

I may not have one of them

But I want to help those who do.

Make them feel comfortable

In our community

Make them feel included.

These squares are changing.

I’m trying to keep up with it

Will you?

 

 

Where I’m From by: Suka N. ’25

I am from pages from Clorox and Burlington.

I am from bricks and panes, rough and crowded.

It felt like tears, the ones dripping down my cheeks.

I am from the trees, the dirt, the blossoms of life that sit in the ground.

I’m from the prizes and words, from sister to father to brother.

I’m from the television and talking, words of encouragement.

From don’t cry and you will go far.

I am from God and the things that He created.

I am from Nigeria, with the smell of pepper and spice bursting your senses.

From the leaving and the words that were never said.

The stress and pain and tears my family has endured.

I am from the graffiti and the words and pages of life itself.

This is me, the things that make me who I am.

This is me and you can never take that away from me.