a poem in free verse by Kaithlyn
We are like the constellations mapped out in the night
We dance blissfully with each other, illuminating
But not all nights are clear like this.
Some nights, the beauty of our light disappears behind
Some nights, our dances are substituted by the gentle
melodies of the rain, the great bass of the thunder,
the delicate dance moves of lightning.
But sometimes, those nights when the clouds
devour everything that brings light into this world,
those are the nights that last the longest.
We forget what the stars look like,
We don’t remember if the moon was Wading,
or if it was Crescent.
We forget to see the brightness that the world can
often bring us.
Our society lives through those cloudy nights.
Cold and dark.
When it rains, the beautiful melodies that we once heard
tapping against the window pane
become the deafening ringing of a gunshot.
The different tones of thunder that once constellated a
suddenly become the horrifying screams of mothers,
children, men, pleading for help.
Lightning that once moved as if it were a calm wave, crashing
gently against the sand, becomes something
hostile. It is ready to destroy everything in its path.
No matter how much we wanted to try to brighten that
dark canvas, we couldn’t.
Our light dimmed and our dances become dull.
No matter how much we want the moon to show her
imperfect beauty, she can’t.
It was nights like these — long and miserable and dark–
where we all gave up on ourselves.
We gave up on hope.
Kaithlyn is a senior. She says, “The nighttime and the changes in weather hide behind metaphors creating something even more beautiful than they already are.”