Perspective, a poem (and a photograph) by Anya Geist, 13

Perspective

Anya Geist, 13

Life is but a glass of water
Half-empty, half-full
We squint at it, jaws jutted
Trying to see which half it is

We look at it from one way
And all we see is darkness
Empty schools, dusty and abandoned
The phantom footsteps of laughing children
Haunting the halls
We see empty grocery stores
Looking ripped apart, torn into pieces
Without the comforting din of shoppers
Without shelves stocked with delicious food
And we see helplessness
The world wobbling severely on its axis
Close to tumbling from its precious perch
As the economy dives down
As business stops in its tracks
As life ceases to be as full as it once was

But when we blink and move our head
Letting a new angle seep in
We see light and joy
We see spring, flowers blossoming
Birds chirp merrily, their songs amplified
Sweeter because of the lack of cars
We see the outdoors
We smell fresh, clean air
Feel the warm sun on our faces
So different from the stifling lights at school
And we see community
Not in person, perhaps
But reaching out across the globe
As people unite with friends and family
Bringing themselves closer together
Waving a common banner against COVID-19

And so, you see
When you stare at the glass of life
You have options, choices
The way the world appears
The scenes you see outside your door
All depend on the way you look

This picture, of a tree in my front yard, illustrates my poem. Half of the image is on a cloudy day and half is on a sunny day, representing our ability to choose which to see.