Young Writers Project is a creative, online community of teen writers and visual artists that started in Burlington in 2006. Each week, VTDigger publishes the writing and art of young Vermonters who post their work on youngwritersproject.org, a free, interactive website for youth, ages 13-19. To find out more, please go to youngwritersproject.org or contact Executive Director Susan Reid at sreid@youngwritersproject.org; (802) 324-9538.
The Girl and the Sky
Fiona Bock, 15, Glover
A little girl looked up to the sky –
“So big and far away, it’s like that, why?
I don’t know why you are
The way that you are,
But you have far, shining stars
And I’m but a trying cry.”
The sky bent down to the ground where she sat
And murmured softly, “You’re but a lass,
So young with such promise,
I’ve seen it go by.
But you’re here right now,
So look at the flowers,
Don’t cry.”
“Isn’t the world changing so fast?
Haven’t the days we’ve known
Almost wholly gone past?
Where are the bluejays, the startling colors?
Where is the wonder, not thunder, the sunburns of summer?”
“Aye,” cried the sky, now that you say,
“I’m choking on smoke,
I’m beat up and broke,
I’m torn and I’m worn
And I’m shorn of my hope!”
“But you still are blue, e’en behind the clouds
Your colors are true, your face is so proud!
Your tears give me life.
I’m sorry your strife
Is cause of my parents and grandparents and human amount!”
“It’s not one, but it’s all,”
Said the sky with a sigh,
“It’s not just one person’s fault,
But the shared blame is the shame
Which prevents us from acting!
You’re worse if you’re silent
For you’ll find hurt by your neighbor’s violence!”
In the rain that poured down,
The girl wept with the sky,
The drains drank up the water
And tears fell from her eye.
“What now, my sky, where can I go
When the entire earth is
Sunk to death row?
How can I make fire to feed a starving world
When fire is stolen and used to make gold
That the true people won’t see,
That will kill the honeybees,
And without honey, without sugar,
Without life or love,
Without wonder we plunder.
I’m so sad, sky, I’ve fallen under!”
“But these are happy tears,
I have not fear
But hope!
I will profess my hope
For you!”
So she danced in the rain from the sky,
As a glimpse of sun veined the tear-trodden earth,
And the girl and the sky danced together.
