Poem

Nothing, a void, a thing you can’t just put in an empty vase. Nothing, not a thing, you can’t lock it in a case. You can’t say it is, and once you embrace, it becomes something, and is just empty space. Nothing, not tangible, just a void without a face. Nothing, a place that isn’t here. Nothing, changing our lives, yet not ever there. A blank screen, outer space, even in the air. It seems to appear everywhere. It causes great despair. Nothing is the place you get to at nowhere. Maybe, just maybe, it can be we’re unaware, unaware of the greatness that ensnares the darkness of the fact that nothing’s there. It helps us when we need to think, or if we’re surrounded in a county fair. Appearing at its best, it can help us pass a test, or live through a war. Nothing, at its purest, is extremely rare. When we’re working, we are very aware of every single sound that is emitted through the air. Jake Sun, 9 Winchester, MA Anna Weinberg, 11 Washington, DC

River water ripples like a smooth glass surface. Crickets play the drums while birds sing a joyful song. The sun leaves the sky and leaves no trace, The moon rises and dances along. Rain droplets fall to make many things new, And flowers bloom like fireworks. Fresh leaves decorated with dew, Stones sink, not floating like a cork. The natural scent of sweet lavender— The smell of nature fills the air. Waterfalls drop from the sky and meet the river. Butterflies fly in their home, the sky, an animal fair— The dreams of nature all come true. The clouds quietly float in the sky so blue. Olivia Wang, 10 Atlanta, GA Sabrina Lu, 13 Ashburn, VA

Rain dripping down fast from dark and gloomy clouds the ground a big mirror suddenly, clouds brighten and rainbows appear. Ethan Edwards, 9 New York, NY

Nobody knows what time is. Time stretches everywhere at different speeds, in peculiar shapes. In space, time expands with the universe. The speed of light is time— we just can’t see it. Soaring, vibrating, flashing, time can escape on feathered wings. Time has a mind of its own; it has a reason for what it chooses to do. On Earth, time slinks away when we don’t pay attention. Time is valuable, a privilege to have. People say they can tell time looking at clocks. But we don’t really know if that’s time. What is time to infinity? The movement of time ripples through space, connecting with other planets, speeding up and slowing down, expanding and contracting. Time came from the beginning of life and it will move on, sweeping humans, animals, living beings with it. In the end, the only thing we really need to know about time is what we do with it. Sofie Dardzinski, 9 Potomac, MD

My gentle fingers landed on the heavy strings as I saw the round circles spiraling around the shining strings The golden light entered the darkness of the room as my thumb pricked the chilling string My hands switched rapidly to the next strings as I started to play a sweet song, high notes and low notes echoing throughout the room All the light faded away from sight and the sad low notes mixed with the happy ones The rhythm of the music wrapped around me like a quilt as all the notes connected and began to create the song that glowed inside me The music flowed in bouncy vibrating waves until I didn’t think about playing music at all on my elegant guitar I just let the glowing music play out of my mind and of my heart. Sofie Dardzinski, 9 Potomac, MD

Hello. My name is Oak. And if you didn’t already guess, I am a tree. I’ve heard rumors of trees that grow delicious fruit, Of trees that bloom exotic flowers, Or even trees that are so tall that it seems they can see the whole world. It must be nice having a purpose. I don’t have anything special about me. Just your typical, everyday tree. I live in the backyard of a small house. People rarely go in and out. I keep to myself. I don’t mind, really. I’m used to being alone. Years ago, I wasn’t alone. I had a beautiful friend named Marigold living right next to me. I don’t like to think about her. When the snow came, she passed. Now I don’t have friends. Seasons passed, The grass grew, And eventually, The people moved away. I didn’t really mind. It wasn’t that different. It’s just life. I watched the sun. Up and down and up and down. Time passed. I stood. Waiting. For what? I don’t know. But soon, I found out. A new family moved in. They trimmed my branches, They cut the grass, And best of all, They brought new life. A flower sprouted next to me. Her name was Rose. We talk. She reminds me of Marigold. And sometimes the other trees join in too. There’s this tree I like. Birch is his name. He makes Rose laugh. I laugh too. And realize how long it’s been since I laughed. But time passes. Leaves fall. Snow coats the ground, Coating Rose too. I shouldn’t ever have made her my friend. I care too much. And, Well, I think you understand. The snow has coated my branches. This is the coldest winter I’ve ever been through. Birch tries to make me laugh. I try to laugh, But I can’t. But the world moves on, Winter passes, Snow melts. Spring takes over, Bringing new life. I take a deep breath. “Rose?” I say, “You’re back?” “I never left,” she says. Seasons pass. I notice all the birds chirping, The bees buzzing, I sleep. I wake up to a rustling. I see small children climbing me. I wish I could shake them off. But then I realize, That I could have a purpose. Soon I go back to sleep. But I am woken up by a loud chirping. I look in my highest branch And see a mother bird feeding her young. I look down and see worms burrowing through my roots, And even a young man using my shade to read. You see, I’ve heard rumors of trees that grow delicious fruit, Of trees that bloom exotic flowers, Or even trees that are so tall that it seems they can see the whole world. And I have a purpose too. People climb me, They use my shade, I am a home, And best of all, I am a friend. Now, I stand up a little bit straighter, A little bit taller, I never knew how much there was to see. Of course, I never really looked. Graham TerBeek, 10 Towson, MD

Fresh pine and dust in the wind with a touch of flowers and sage and the faraway glimmer of Lake Alpine. We’ve risen above most of everything and all of civilization has abandoned us. A hawk soars in the thin air. I think I am that hawk. I kick over a rock and dirt enters my shoe. The smell of trees never fades. Julia Marcus, 13 Culver City, CA

It must be so lonely to be a clock in the middle of the night hanging on the wall steadily ticking through the darkness with no one awake to ask: What time is it? even though you will be able to say just the same. Julia Marcus, 13 Culver City, CA