the bird on fire

The Palm Valley School Student Blog

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Pondering Stars

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By Anonymous

 

I gaze up at the brilliant mixture of the light of burning stars

 

With a suspicion that those stars of hefty yet faint stature might hush my awe

 

For this sight of shimmering stars might have been overshadowed.

 

By their fixed fate, they all could have diminished, but they could still be perceived;

 

Or maybe not, maybe that myriad of makings in our hazy view will yet stand to mesmerize our eyes.

 

Either way, we can merely persist to ponder over how we could pioneer into the ocean of void to touch these dazzling stars,

 

But, for the time being, all we can do is but wonder while we are bound to the round Earth.

 

Editor: AJ Patencio

friends

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By Makena Behnke

 

i was in class, like i normally am

laughing at a dumb joke or one of my classmate’s antics,

and i realized that my senior friends will be graduating this year,

and my smile faded.

i thought about my junior friends and realized they’ll be leaving soon–

my smile turned into a frown;

my sophomore friends, they will leave too–

i started to tear up;

my freshmen friends and i will part eventually,

and i cried.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Threshold

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By Peter Kadel

The footsteps have always been there, the paths of others for me to follow.

Some days they all lead me towards one place, a clear and pure consensus.

But other days they are split, and I must guide myself as best I can through the confusion.

There are also days when I must stray from the path to discover what lies beyond.

And then there is today—today is a day unlike the other days when certainty guided me.

As I arrived at the top of what I believed was the tallest peak I would ever climb,

I was faced with a new set of daunting challenges towering far above me.

As I viewed these giants, I saw that there were no trails marking the safe paths.

I realized that I stood at a threshold between the known and unknown.

There were no footprints to follow, no trails to track, no one to tell me where to tread.

And so I took a step forward.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Gregory

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By Guest Poet Blogger Chris Griffin

This poem was written when I was age 24 – in the midst of, and in order to encapsulate, a somewhat fiery yet thrilling relationship. Greg is no more, but the poem remains. It’s as if written in stone – and time.

 

Accidental (Mount Tamalpais, 1972)

 

while driving   my car

blinked out   gregory

wheel grabbed   spun out

even off  the paved main

thorough farely clung cried

for help was near to  

nothing ever fell so

far so

good

 

Editor: Shelby Armor

Charlotte

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By Anonymous  

 

beauty is a feeling.

it is a gasp.

it is that inhale

that manages to fill your soul.

it is that feeling when you smile

from ear to ear because you’re just

happy.

it is the wonder that gleams in your eyes.

it is the nostalgia of a childhood dream.

it is in the colours of music,

in the rhythm of a landscape.

it is vibrant.

it is so much more than pretty.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

I’m Sorry.

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By Renée

 

Hello, my dearest you.

I have done something quite

strange, and weird.

Something a bit out of character,

at least for me.

I have broken my own promises;

I have divided from deep inside.

From what I know now,

from what I knew then,

yes, it still makes sense.

But, I did not account for my own loneliness.

It creeps inside my heart now,

but I know you need me now to be a friend.

And, here I’ll be for you.

I’ll be here just for you.

I’ll keep my mouth shut.

I have my entire life to express myself,

but right now you need me

to listen to you.

And, that’s something I know quite well how to do.

But, more than that, it’s what I want to do,

listen to you.

I’ll be here for you.

I’m sorry.

 

Editor: Makena Behnke

To the Sun and Beyond

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By Anonymous

 

We wish for the fury to end,

The sadness to cease,

And our souls

To find

Everlasting love.

We will hunt

That prayer to the

Angelic sun

And beyond.

And even though

Discovering an answer

Will be difficult,

We can

Emancipate ourselves,

Reaching the liberty

Beyond

The Gates

Of the sun.

 

Remember,

All stars

Sing different songs of life,

But we hold

The same

Fate.

 

One fate.

 

One us.

 

Editor: Claire Jenkins

Lost Dreams in the River

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By Shelby Armor

 

A river,

so majestic,

so beautiful,

home to so many things

and I cannot be one with it.

My dreams are filled with the illusions

of fins on my arms

and of flippers on my feet;

it all seems so close

yet so far away.

I could sit for hours and sway,

sway to the melodic sound of rushing water

and leaping fish,

but I cannot.

I cannot breath using water

or slice through the sea

for I am a human,

and that is all I will ever be.

 

Editor: A.J. Patencio

The End We Start From

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By Guest Blogger & Poet Jessica Denyer

 

Everyone has a beginning, middle, and end to their story.

But who says the beginning is where we start from?

The end is many times the beginning of something

much greater than the end,

something more profound,

something more knowledgeable.

Sometimes we must get to the end of what seems like

a never ending eternity to reveal the new beginning.

Sometimes the middle is a nice place to start as well.

Sometimes the middle is more understanding

when it’s time to stop and think

than when it’s time

to pray for the end.

The beginning is tricky.

The beginning is what the middle and end need to thrive.

The beginning is what makes or breaks the middle and ends philosophies;

either they flourish or they perish.

But the middle is always a great place to soul search,

and the end is always a place to reflect.

But even when there is the beginning–

there is always the end to start from.

Editor: Reneé Vazquez

A Fairy Tale Must Be Repeated At Least Once In Order To Be Comprehended

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By Shelby Armor

 

My grandmother once told me

of painted skies and

a blank sheet of paper

with nothing on it but ideas for the future

 

The paper, hidden in a shed,

buried in an Arabian desert

 

held the concepts of happiness,

the concepts of joy for all

 

This paper, where it waited to be found,

spelled out a future of good fortune and happiness

 

That’s what my grandmother had said,

but I, being the curious child I was,

challenged these ideas and yearned for more,

 

I yearned for more to that story,

I yearned to understand this fairy tale,

I yearned to be older so I could see,

 

See the top shelf,

live in a world where I would tell the fairy tales.

 

It would never come, I thought to myself

“Too long” I said to my grandmother

when she asked me how school was,

and then I blinked

 

I could see the top shelf

I had children of my own to read to every night,

but my grandmother wasn’t here to see

 

when would those days come back,

the days of exploring outside

and playing pretend with my friends?

 

But they wouldn’t come back,

I had wasted my innocent days

thinking of things beyond my years,

waiting to grow up,

and doubting fairy tales

 

Editor: Makena Behnke