The acorn woodpecker’s Thump on the tree And the owl’s hidden hoot Fill my ears as I walk Through forest on a Sun-filled morning Canadian geese calls Sound like laughter As they fly into the Lake with a splash And swim peacefully One after the other Manzanita trees and bushes Are a deep red-brown Covered in lichen and moss. Storing the sun in their veins, Green leaves are lit from inside Towering oak trees Stand in silence, moss Like an old man’s beard Hanging from aged branches. Poison oak climbs the trunks, “Leaves of three, let it be” Everything is part of everything And I am the tree, soil and sun. Breathing in, I inhale The life around me, Breathing out, I reach to meet myself To live in this moment Is to be grateful For what I have and love and am Mark Roberts, 13 Windsor, California Mark wrote this poem when he was 11
March/April 2004
A Shaken Garden
Glynis Hyatt walked blindly down the street. Fragments of shrapnel crunched under her shoes. Glass mixed, making mosaics with the rubble on the ground. The smell of smoke littered the air, thick and foul-smelling. The reality of war had hit at full blast, and many people were still in shock. The surprise bombings had caused so much trauma and heartbreak. Glynis kept walking down the street and around the corner. In plain view was the hospital and Glynis quickened her pace. It had all happened so fast. It was 7:30 AM, and she was getting ready to go to her shift as a telephone operator. She had just started working this summer after graduating from high school. She quickly put on a starched dress, and sat down to breakfast. She looked out her window and saw a clear blue sky. It’s going to be a wonderful day, she thought. Soon she heard planes, which she pushed aside since the air station was under construction. Suddenly, Glynis heard loud explosions all around her. Screams seemed to arise from nowhere, and rubble flew everywhere. The windows bent inward and shattered, shooting glass all over. She crawled under the table to avoid being hurt. Glynis stared at the swirling chaos around her. The pungent smell of gas from the bombs filled her nostrils. The screams continued and became more violent among the deathly roar. Then it all seemed to stop; the world became silent. Glynis crawled out from under the table and stood up shakily. She walked silently through the glass on her wood floor. Her door was off its hinges and lying in splinters on the floor. Glynis walked straight out of the house and onto the once-beautiful lawn. The little town was almost unrecognizable, with shrapnel and objects that had not been tied securely to the ground. Roof tiles and aluminum siding from all over the neighborhood littered the streets and yard. Glynis Hyatt walked over to the area where the fence that had separated her garden from others had stood and looked at her precious Eden. Her beautiful gardens of lush gorgeous plants, gone. All her ravishing ginger plants, with their huddled petals, had withered and left the petals ripped and twisted. Her vividly colored gladiolus had lost all their color and they seemed to look blankly at her from their position on the dark ground. The ti plant’s bright red petals had been ripped, and were strewn amongst the other flowers as if they were bleeding. She stood and looked at what was left of her flowers and then gazed toward her neighbor’s house. Kenny Eldrich had lived on Oahu for 45 years and knew everything in Hawaiian history. Standing on his back porch, he stood gazing out at the destroyed houses. One thing that made Kenny different from other Polynesians was that he did not have the traditional dark hair and eyes. His hair was blond and he had green eyes. Ever since Glynis had emigrated to Hawaii with her older brother, Kenny was there for her, like the father she left back in Japan. Standing on his back porch, he seemed so alone and devastated to see his little town torn apart. It seemed to have torn him apart as well. Glynis broke the silence. “What happened?” Kenny spoke in a faraway voice, “They finally got us, we’ve been bombed.” Glynis’s world seemed to fall apart. Piece by piece her world was shattering. “Where did they bomb us?” she asked tearfully. “The dock. Oklahoma, Raleigh, the heart of our military.” Kenny spoke in a faraway voice, “They finally got us, we’ve been bombed” Glynis felt as if she had been slapped. “The dock” rang in her ears, painful and loud. Tolby, her brother. Tolby working on the Oklahoma. The Oklahoma’s bombed, gone. Glynis screamed painfully and started running in the direction of the dock. Kenny, still standing on the porch, watched her run, silent tears streaming down his face. Glynis cried as she ran, her feet pounding hard against thrown pieces of wood. Her heart seemed to beat louder until she heard it in her ears. Out of breath from all her screaming and crying, she collapsed on the street. Tears mixed with sweat and her nose was running. Glynis felt ready to throw up, not only from exhaustion but from worrying for her brother as well. In her mind, she kept seeing Tolby’s body being tossed among the waves, his beautiful hazel eyes open toward the sky, never to find rest among the eternally rolling waves. Although Glynis’s mind kept telling her Tolby was dead, something in her heart told her she had to be wrong. She scrambled up to her feet, and instead of feeling distraught she was fresh with determination: she had to find her brother. As she got closer to the dock, the destruction became more obvious. Along the roadside, a car had stopped. Both the car and the men inside were destroyed. In the front was an American shipyard worker. It was clear to see that he was dead. The driver’s head was pressed against the top of the steering wheel. His dark hair was bloodily plastered to his forehead. The passengers seemed dipped in red and were staring upward. The reason for his death was unmistakable: his car had been peppered by shrapnel, and was still smoking. She continued running, trying not to be disrespectful to the dead by staring. At last, Glynis arrived at what was left of the dock. The smoke dyed the air a deep gray and it was difficult to see through the billowing pillars. Even though much of her vision was impaired, the outline of the capsized Oklahoma was distinct, as well as other ships. Glynis ran wildly around the dock, hoping to see anyone that resembled her brother, but she saw no one, only the bodies that rolled on the waves. Glynis almost broke down again, but something told her to pull together and
Alia Waking
Alia Waking by Laura Williams McCaffrey; Clarion Books: New York, 2003; $15 Your lifelong dream dangles before your eyes. You reach for it and almost grasp it, but alas, you still have to watch the baby for your mother and scrub the floors. If there’s extra time in between chores, you might find an opportunity to sneak off for a bit and chase that fantasy. Not that it’s likely you’ll get anywhere at that rate. This scenario is true for Alia Cateson in Alia Waking. For all her life, Alia has wanted to become a warrior, a keenten. However, her mother needs help with the chores at home, and Alia has to spend almost all her time mending clothes and doing other household duties. She’ll be thirteen soon, and that’s the age when keentens choose girls to join them. If she isn’t chosen, she might have to spend the rest of her life cooking and cleaning. War has plagued Alia’s world for years. Her kingdom, Tram, is at war with a neighboring land called Beech. All of Trant despise Beechians, and when Alia and her friend Kay find two Beechian children in the woods, they’re immediately thought of as spies. The Beechians are locked up, and everyone assumes they’ll be executed. I thought it was horrible that the villagers all thought it would be OK to kill children. Prejudice is an issue in Alia Waking. The Beechian children found in the woods are supposed to be spies simply because of where they come from. I think this is very similar to some of the issues happening right now. Since the September II terrorist attacks, Arab Americans are being discriminated against because of the way they look. Peer pressure also comes up in this book. Alia wants to help the Beechian prisoners when they’re ill, but Kay disagrees. The boy has a hurt foot, so Alia wants to bring him rags to wrap it up. It’s wintertime and the prison is cold. Kay says, “Would they have done the same for your brothers?” Alia’s elder brothers died fighting Beechians in the war. But Alia brings rags and gets a healer for the sick girl, anyway. Kay becomes extremely angry with her and hangs out with another girl instead of with Alia. The two whisper together and play games Alia and Kay once did. Alia knows she did the right thing, but can she make Kay understand? And if Kay refuses, can Alia let her best friend go? I think Alia was really strong to stand up to her best friend, and I admire her courage throughout the book. I found it annoying that all the housework is left to the women and girls in Alia Waking. I know real life was like this for a long time, but it was still frustrating that Alia had trouble following her dream because of a huge workload, while her brothers did whatever they wanted. Reading this book makes me appreciate how lucky I am that chores are spread out in my family and that whether you’re a boy or a girl, you still have an equal amount of work to do. This book is filled with values, from acceptance of people regardless of race to standing up to peer pressure. All the conflict Alia experiences really pulled me into the book; I wanted to know how it ended. If you’re looking for a good read, try Alia Waking. Holly Kuestner, 13Bothell, Washington