by Ty Young, Julia Reynolds Masterman Laboratory and Demonstration School
I find myself sitting in a small room at the foot of a bed near a window
A warm summer shower in late afternoon, tranquil in its release,
Raindrops, fallen soldiers, dapple the glass.
Mighty dark clouds like schooners waver above,
And I bathe in the soft light of the benevolent sun as it pours like nectar through the clouds,
Hidden, yet loving.
And I rejoice!
I yawp in glee and romp in revelry!
We are yet dust within the wake of the universe’s footstep,
We are but on the precipice of its emergence from a cosmic womb,
A second gone past, forgotten soon,
The sounds of ringing space,
Choirs of collapse,
Resonation with entropy,
As immortals vanish,
Earthly bodies, tarrying no more.
Yet, I feel compelled to celebrate!
To celebrate the purple evening of a tired August, galumphing into soft and heavy slumber.
To celebrate the rats, plump on waste, scurrying beneath subway cars as they roar down the track.
To celebrate the hazy, billowing clouds of midsummer, airships trekking across clear blue.
To celebrate the hulking turkey vulture in grey autumn, stalking the forests of the night.
To celebrate the weightless snow, powdering and silencing a city of grand monoliths.
To celebrate a bike ride down a hill in spring, and how the whistle of wind gives way to the ring of peepers, a timid cadence.
To celebrate these specimen days in which I nearly forget myself in love and song and joy in the simple pleasure of living!
And as I slowly arise from a deep slumber in early morning, I hear the call of a songbird, or perhaps it is a mocker, and I close my eyes and proceed to be.
Honorable Mention for the 2019 Walt Whitman Poetry Contest