Try

There is a light.
There is a darkness.
There is a healing.
There is a hurt.

These are the truths.

There is a twilight.
There is a comfortable.

These are the compromises.

Life brings with it terrible mountains...
Life summons trenches to break apart the earth below,
But life also builds bridges and ropes.

Sometimes we simply do not give forth the effort.
Sometimes we do not think.
Sometimes we do not try.

And that is when those pits pull us into the darkness...
That is when those mountains choke our air away...
That is when the comfortable becomes agony...
That is when the immeasurable darkness crushes the beams of purest light.

But effort is a beautiful thing.

For with it,
That is when the trench seems sealed...
That is when the mountain is only a fleck of dust...
That is when the comfortable is glowing with delight...
That is when the light folds us in its warm, immeasurable pureness.

When we have accomplished the ability to simply "try".

Help Save the John L. Johnson Auditorium

Power
      It's a stranger
But a Mother all the same
If ever I could feel it
Touch it
Taste it

I would.

But loss

Loss is power 

A power

A power all on its own

Something stronger than anything I've ever known

I don't know.

I don't know what to do.

With power I am strong.

With loss...I am wrong.

The stage is where I feel power
Where I feel loss

It is where I know my heart is beating
Every hour
Every minute
Every day

Hours upon hours I have poured

I have sweated

I have cried into that theatre

Into my home

And I won't give up.

It is threatened by power
It is threatened by loss

They plague its scaffolding
They scratch away at its doors

The ones who teach
They take away
And the ones who learn
Lose many days

For my home is threatened by restructure
By reconstruction

It may not seem much to an audience of those who have never seen
But to those whom have seen everything happen within
Those whom have made those happenings happen

It is everything.

It is a lesson...

It is power unfeeling and power renewed:

It is loss taken and then given.

It is every emotion rolled into one

It is every lesson taught

The theatre we lose

That home is more than a building

It is our teacher

Our friend.

Our parent.

Please, help save the John L. Johnson Auditorium in Napoleon, Ohio.

Follow Maumee Valley Civic Theatre on Facebook and donate to save the place that taught so many who they are and who they can someday become.

If Ever (Poem)

This poem was written for Memorial Day to honor our brave men and women who contributed the most selfless sacrifice of all.

If ever life could be more true;

Give more valor, love, and faith…

If ever life could be more gleeful;

Take joy from the strongest hate…

If ever life could be more worthwhile;

Prolong passion, courage, and lives…

Then the wars may end.

Life is worth living:

Life, however, is not worth the cost of giving;

But those who dedicate their life

They receive something more:

They receive treasures unknown to the frightened

To the fearful.

They take challenges issued to only the chosen

Those which are given proudly to the brave.

Their choices determine the freedom of others—

Their choices create possibilities

Numerous as the stars.

If ever the world desires their fight,

If ever the world desires their arms…

They provide.

They will stand as guardians of freedom.

The world—it’s a strong place,

But even stronger,

It is with these:

Those men and women who ride into the night.

Those men and women who survive the firing…

The fear…

The loneliness…

The separation…

The curtain of death…

But then again, some do not

 

And these

These fallen are the most treasured of them all.

The world may someday pass,

And the sun may set;

The moon may dry and float away like dust

Because the veterans who gave their lives

Lost to a war.

And we did not listen to their ghosts.

Yet, still there is a chance

For you all are sitting here

Remembering.

Cherishing.

Trusting.

Praising.

Their lives have passed and their sun has set:

Their everlasting night has dawned.

But with a full, and guiding moon.

Those veterans who gave their lives

Gave their all to us.

So giving back to them…

That…

That is what we must do.

Pass strangers with trust.

Avoid hate, change lives.

For the better.

Heal.

Don’t hurt…

And let war, which will end the world,

Rest beside the brave who died within its darkness

Let these teachers lying around us

Let them all know that their lives were taken

But their lessons

Their lessons were not

We will remember their teachings

We will remember them.

And then

And only then

Can life be more true

Can life be more gleeful

Can life be more worthwhile

Can veterans’ lives not be a heedless sacrifice.

A Child's Liberty

The indescribable eyes of a young child look into one’s soul, and the first feeling any rational heart should recognize is love—pure, unrestricting, captivating love.  Humans discover that gazing into a child’s enlightened eyes is like staring into the universe’s heart and discovering that, maybe, it is not completely sculpted from darkness, but, rather, that the darkness is molded by the absence of starlight. Subsequently, there stands a 100 percent chance that those curious eyes are those of a young one that will carve our future. Their fingertips will brandish the clay that forms the destiny of the human race. Upholding their right to unbound freedom, we must ensure that their lives do not involve the task of remolding the frame we have already set for them. As access to education is sickeningly denied to children, and hundreds of young ones are exploited or abused every day, the children of the world should be encouraged to strengthen their liberty of learning and their entitlement to childhood innocence with the help of all adults, especially parents and teachers.

Accordingly, as a unified species of intellectual capacity, it is our inherent right to unearth the beauties of the world around us; however, a number of children are denied this right, especially in foreign lands. As indicated by Susan Aud and her fellow authors, America boasts a 90 percent rate for adults ages 25 through 29 to have a high school diploma, and 33 percent have a bachelor’s degree or higher by this point in their life (1-2). Therefore, in America—a country so known for its indescribable liberty and freedom—there is nearly ten percent of a fairly recent age group whom do not even possess their high school diploma. Encouraging children to be free, adults must reassure them to engage in learning as modern grown-ups evidently did not have the dedication or ability to do so. In a Malaysian study on 26 working children, 20 did not even realize their right to a proper education and 16 longed for schooling (Rahimah Abdul Aziz 1). If a child does not know of his or her rights to education—to learning about the entrancing, free world around them—how does anyone expect this world to enrich itself? Ten did not desire school because they had most likely never been taught what an education’s value is. Being free and enlightened unto liberty means partaking of the opportunity to indulge in both sides of an argument because you know both sides; consequently, youngsters cannot control this freedom because they are not given the opportunity to obtain schooling. A child being denied access to school illustrates just how much freedom is removed from his or her life.

Additionally, abusing and exploiting children because of their lack of education is common in many third world countries. Christina Thurston alleges that other counties horrifyingly subject their children to the workforce because they appear easy to abuse, manipulate, or exploit in their young, presumable helplessness (54). Because of their small stature, a child’s strength is minuscule and that makes their minds, as well as bodies, an easy target. By educating even a tiny increment more of the population every year, perhaps a child can genuinely learn to defend him or herself and develop a faultless future. Encouraging a child to manage high self-image, strong communication skills, and positive morals allows a child to be unburdened from fear as well as discrimination (Thurston 57). Each of these traits sustains a young one’s self-confidence. Being free permits them to delegate themselves and allows them to discover pieces of life that they might never have known because they were restricted by society’s pressures and frustrating psychological chains. Supporting children in everything they do, adults will help kids develop a halo of freedom they can cherish their whole lives. The entire world oppressing young ones validates the idea that children should attain their long-awaited freedom.

Furthermore, people believe that children need strict rules and regulations. Children, conversely, are innocent and uncorrupt until they are bantered by reason and the stress of the world: Our youngest ones are inherently good. Echoing the victories of our history, their necessary freedom reflects those trespasses of the African Americans, the Israelites from Egypt, and humans from sins. They do not need more discipline; they need chances to discover and learn and love and be just plain children again. Indulging in their freedoms as much as humanly possible under this pressurized society, young ones are forced to accept what little freedoms they have and be content…they must sit while the fumes of poisonous restrictions churn around them. They do not know they are restricted. They do not know they are bound. They do not realize how much of life is taken from their tiny palms in order to sustain our reins of control and order. In this daunting universe we live within, these acts of constraint flood society, but they are corrupt, for they limit human existence’s expression of life and of learning.

Thus, children are strong and they are courageous; we are the ones who are so weak that we feast on their insecurities to make ourselves feel powerful. When envisioning the future, the human race should glimpse equal opportunity and glowing understanding of all generations that transcends time. Encouragement from adults for children to establish their own creativity and ideas of “perfection”, as well as the forming of organizations and laws (like the “No Child Left Behind Act of 2001”) to encourage children and protect them from abuse should be enacted (Aud 1 and Randolph 6). Brilliantly, these effects start one adult at a time…change how a parent views their child and their view will slowly influence the world. Hence, in “What Can Parents Do to Help?”, studies indicate that students 15 years of age today showcase higher test scores when it is proven that their parents read to them as children (1). If schools could enact parent’s meetings bi-annually starting in a child’s first year of schooling that provide ideas for aiding the kid’s education and require a pledge to proper parenthood, a parent’s heart and ideas of parenthood will be upgraded. Because these meetings are infrequent, many adults will have the necessary time to attend each of these. Influencing one area, one parent, and–therefore—one child at a time, the world will begin to glow with the incomprehensible light of true understanding. Earth itself will become a beautiful, knowledgeable, and truly “free” place for everyone, big or small. Liberty will finally reach our truly littlest minority.

 

 

  

Works Cited:

Aud, Susan, and et al. “The Condition of Education 2013.” National Center for Education Statistics (2013): 1-3. EBSCOhost.Web. 3 Dec. 2013.

Randolph, Kelli; Wilson-Younger, Dylinda. “Is No Child Left Behind Effective for All Students? Parents Don’t Think So.” Online Submission (2012): 6. EBSCOhost.Web. 4 Dec. 2013.

Thurston, Christina. “Child Abuse: Recognition of Causes and Types of Abuse.” Practice Nurse 31.10 (2006): 51-57. EBSCOhost.Web. 4 Dec. 2013.

Aziz, Rahimah Abdul; and Iskandar, Suriati “Working Children and Knowledge of Right to Education: A Study of ChildLabour in Sabah, Malaysia.” Asian Social Science  9.8 (2012): 1, 31. EBSCOhost.Web. 5 Dec. 2013.

N.a. “What Can Parents Do to Help Their Children Succeed in School?” OECD Publishing  (2011): 1. EBSCOhost.Web. 5 Dec. 2013.

Grown In A Blink

For anyone afraid of growing up, know that you are loved, that you are cherished, and that you will be okay.

Shooing away subconscious thought, peace clouded the darkness of my mind. Black silk wavered as morning broke through the silence of dreams. My eyelashes fluttered, and I buried my vision deep into the rising sun outside my…room? Only, the room constructed before me was not the one I saw as my eyes shut last night; it was more organized than the childish one I had fallen asleep in. As my eyesight swept across the furniture, I recognized pieces belonging to my parents. The oak armoire passed down since my great grandparents first weeks in America rested across the room. The caramel wood stain was kept neat by my father, but I noticed a few pale scratches that begged repair.

I lifted the champagne comforter that buried my body and swung my legs off the side of the king bed; this movement seemed heavier than I remembered. I glanced down at my legs. All of my baby fat is gone…I actually have muscle on these things….

I must have exercised in my sleep.

A lot.

I shook my head to clear away the lasting fog of dreams, and I gently placed my feet on the cold hardwood floor. Goosebumps slithered their way up my pale arms. Something similar to a breeze brushed through my mind and whispered that the scene before me wasn’t right with the common order of life. My straight chestnut hair brushed across my face like an evening shadow as I gathered myself and shuffled to the mirror resting upon the wall; the steps to the gilded mirror were a blur of mindlessness.

I gathered my thoughts before the reflection in front of me. Two hands swept the strands that had fallen across my face behind two pierced ears; chocolate brown eyes looked back into mine, fringed with brown eyelashes. Those features I recognized; however, the cheekbones in the mirror were more refined than mine, and I don’t remember lips with such a hard, worried line, either. It’s as if the skin over my face was stretched with an infinitesimal pressure and then given a young adult’s glow as I slept. The face in the mirror had grown overnight. Fear gathering in the shining midst of the mirror’s eyes, I blinked, eyelashes dancing up and down, as my brain swirled to the conclusion my heart avoided. I licked my lips, and the world became unfamiliar and haunting like fog in a graveyard a million miles away.

I stumbled to the door and grasped the cold metal, turning the brass knob, clinging to it for support. My heart was pounding like an ambulance siren. In the hallway, my feet slid upon the forest green carpet, and my hands scratched along the wood-paneled wall until I reached the stairs.

“MOM! DAD! Anyone home?” my lips moved without a moment’s hesitation as I raced through the doors of our house. I found myself drowning in a state of panic, looking…searching, but finding not a single trace of my parents. I ended in the garage, crumbled up on the cold cement floor, staring with a bitter hatred at the old Ford truck Dad had bought me for my sixteenth birthday for no other car resided here. My toenails ground into the gray floor and my feet welcomed the chill that raced through my body: It was better than the sadness. I loved that truck…but I loved my father more, and I wanted him back. I felt my eyes gather tears, emotions crowding their way through my mind. In this state, I curled myself tighter together and buried my head in my knees.

I was an adult, and the only consolation I had was the fact that God was guiding me. My body shivered, sobs tearing through it. As the chill of the morning froze my soul and darkened my spirits, I lifted myself up and an idea sparked a fire inside me. I must have mom and dad’s number in my cell.

The kitchen table was just as I remembered it; the only change was the center piece that always held Queen Anne’s lace, Mom’s favorite flower. Now, pink roses, my favorite, filled the crystal cylinder. Behind the velvet petals sat my purse. I snatched it and felt a layer of my heart calm because I knew that their numbers would be in here. Flipping open my phone, I found I had two missed callers; both left messages. I dialed the voicemail and listened as my heart skipped a loving, cherished, unmistakable beat.

Mom’s sweet voice came first, “First of all, Dad says that if your truck needs fixing you come find us right away because he knows no one else in this town can fix it. Second, I love you and you are going to be an amazing young woman out there on your own. And last, we will always be here for you. Never forget that. If you lose your way, just pray and God will provide.” The tone went, and then I waited for the next message to play.

Dad spoke, “I don’t think your mom said, so I’m gonna say it: Do not let anyone but me touch your truck. By the way, before we left last night, mom switched the flowers on the table but you probably went to bed before you noticed. Anyway, I guess that means you grew up, darlin’. I’m not going to bother you, but if I see any men leaving that house past one in the morning, I am not going to be a happy camper. Call us tomorrow…night, sweetheart.”

The quiet sobbing I heard must have been me. I was an adult, but my parents loved me: I was alone, but always watched over. Clasping my phone close to my heart, I sank into one of the cushioned chairs and buried my head in relief. Peace washed over me, and fog covered my thoughts like black silk.

 

A midnight sea filled my mind while peace contorted my dreams into memories. Awakening from a dream I couldn’t quite remember, I blinked into the sunlight of a new day. My bed lay beneath me, and I knew that it comforted me like the love of my parents does.

I was left only with a memory of love.