Creative Energy

Caterpillar

One day I looked upon a caterpillar

And noticed that his heart was bigger

Than that of any other bug

He was so far away, it seemed

As if he was in a dream

I wanted to know what he was thinking

But realized he was blinking.

Unashamed was he to show his scorn

For he was being re-born.

His heart was thumping wildly

Thumping so much, yet, hardly.

And then, as if by magic things,

His heart turned into beautiful wings.

They danced about, shedding color on the leaves

He flew from branch to branch of the trees.

Red, yellow and orange, he teased the sun

Playing its mind, if only for fun.

If only we could be

so content as he

To sit and watch the stars

With a heart that matched Mars

And dream of wings to fly away

To a much prettier day.

—Megan Sterner

post falls

`Feeling of Poetry’

I hate poetry, the one thing I could never stand,

To me these boring lines of words come out so bland,

Writing one is like stepping up to the plate and being fanned,

Instead of writing one, from my job I’d much rather be canned,

And when I attempt one, I always crash land.

—Bryce Warren

lewis & clark

Solitude

The frost has stiffened its branches

and the wind had knarled its bows.

The nights have helped it to hide

underneath a blanket of solitude.

Its purpose is forgotten

and it holds meaning to no one.

It has no green hues,

or yellow leaves,

nor any other color autumn brings.

It is simply alone,

listening to the wind’s gentle whisper.

And as the lonely coyote wanders by,

it is frightened by the giant beast

who cries alone in the dark

as the moon presents its hideous shadow.

—Jennifer Marshall

mt. spokane