What I Worship, Above All Else, Flies

Out of a blue textured night
that belongs to you,
you burst through bright, fat drops of rain.
Wings unfolding, expanding,
until you’re over four feet wide.
Forget the leopard. Forget the lion.
You are king. Maybe God.
Tufts of feathers for horns, regal face brown and white,
serious as talons that extend and rotate,
rip and sever. Through eyes the color of sun,
which widen in its absence, search
not just for tail or fin, antennae or wings.
Look also for me.
In your long shadow, I bow, I kneel,
to claws that grip, cries that pierce.

-Jonathan Fletcher

The Ghost in the Twilight

Ten thousand souls have gathered. Each one burning more brightly
Illuminating the arrival of a wild wild thing.
Her wings silently cut through the darkness.
A mother, a priestess, a hunter
The patron saint of the abandoned
and of the forgotten.
She grew her golden feathers in spite of the rain.
She is the ghost in the twilight
She has returned to show us the way

-Eric Lozano

Scars

She twists, trapped in the silence of her mind
A mind full of thoughts, memories
Some hers, some not
She writhes, stuck in her own skin
A skin that does not feel like it belongs
Half whole, half torn apart
Scars from the past and present
mar her body
mostly filled, slightly hollowed,
leaving little space
for what’s yet to come—
More creeping vines of moments
More silent lines of flesh
and scars.

-Thiyugee Marasinghe

A Cry At The Endless Night

Night, I fly through your dark waters.
Your waves wrapping me in your quiet darkness,
Attempting to drown me in your ocean of black.
Your abyss frightens me but also tempts me.
You try to make me one with the silence,
But I am not afraid.
My wings cut through your void,
My eyes pierce through your veil.
You may hold the world in slumber,
But I remain awake, searching,
Knowing that in your darkest depths
There is a glimmer of light.
Do not forget me, Night.
For though you are endless,
I am here – I am flying, I am calling, I am alive.

-Rhyllie MacMillan

The Courageous Owl

I watch as its wings flap,
Calmly, but with strength,
Flapping, with no fear at all,
Just flying as it flaps its wings,
Nothing could stop it,
It’s determined,
It left its fear back where it took off,
Ready to move forward,
Leaving everything behind,
Its face calm as the night sky,
Not a single sound nearby,
Not a single person either,
Alone.
Flying.

-Lily May

Twilight Sojourn

A storm swirls
like grief
hiding hope
an owl will guide us home
its ancient wisdom will enlighten us
and lead us through the dark

-Elizabeth Shi

At Fourteen, She Stands Vigilant

Wearing Mama’s faded bonnet,

holding Papa’s other rifle,

she stands apart

from the laughter of her little sister,

from her brothers, restless as colts

testing the strength of young legs.

She glances at the hazy sun,

setting behind thin gray clouds.

Warm breezes stir the grasses, ruffle her apron

against her cotton dress, curls them around her legs.

She shifts her weight, slides the bonnet off her head.

She sniffs the air for skunks.

She listens for rattlesnakes,

the moaning of coyotes,

growling from a hungry wolf.

Glances down at her dusty boots

for silent critters that bite or sting.

She remembers warnings,

lessons taught by Papa.

How to breathe slower as she aims,

squeeze the trigger, ready herself for the shot.

Her gaze follows the children.

Adele picks blue and yellow flowers.

Todd finds a stick to draw in the dirt.

Griffin wanders closer to the grazing horses.

Her hair flutters softly against her face.

She smooths it away from her eyes.

Careful, holding her loaded rifle, vigilant.

-Diane Gonzales Bertrand