Sometimes I wonder if the art I contribute to this worldis hurled into it in a positive or negative way.I often find myself struggling to think of things to say,so I resort to letting my emotions lead the way -paint... Continue Reading →
By Bryce Yoder, Student Writer in Residence I’ve never really known the color of my own eyes.Anytime I’ve been asked,I’ve marked on the line that they’re hazelbut I don’t think that’s right.There’s a little bit of blue,a little bit of... Continue Reading →
By Clair Prins I went to Detroit a couple summers back with my church youth group on a mission trip. Oneafternoon, I was hanging out with some other girls in our shared sleeping area and doing hennatattoos. We ended up... Continue Reading →
By Clair Prins The ghostly eyesOf the moon peek throughBranches of trees.Murmurs of my forgottenHistories swirl andDance, gentlyCaressing my hair andCoaxing me along. I race,I runFor the thrill of it.I wave at starsAnd screamAt the moon toCome get me!Bring me... Continue Reading →
By Clair Prins Her eyes slowly blinked open. Her gaze moved around the long room, but seemed to takenothing in. Helia was shivering; her bare feet freezing against the cool cement floor. “Hello?” Only her echo responded, just as confused... Continue Reading →
By Bryce Yoder, Student Writer in Residence Call it a cube,maybe five by five by five.Call it a brick,smash a window and revive.Call it a Lego and I’ll build you up a masterpiece.Call it a chopping block, I’ll beg for... Continue Reading →
The Crossings 