Poetry Corner
We are the Earth
Maryam Uddin
It is speculated by some that since the days of Adam and Eve,
We are a special kind of art, a form of entity, created by clay and soil,
But mankind is an ire creature infamous for self-sabotage because we spoil
The mighty mountains that act as paperweights, the vast ocean, the trees,
There are days where I am left to mourn the Earth’s decay alone—oh, I grieve,
For the human race has won the directionless battle that it has with itself,
Eradicating whole species as if they’re mistakes, polluting the seas that kiss the horizon,
Consuming plastics, funding wars—but hey, maybe we rich ones can escape to Mars,
We continue wiping out forests, Indigenous identities, pumping gas out of cars,
Drilling crystal glaciers until the sun sets and we end up drowning—baby, we are poison
But as I mourn the decaying homeland, this magnificent planet, I sow a seed,
Pray its gentle roots weave with other ones in this ashy war-torn ground,
Because I have a hope as mighty as these mountains, a hope that we have found
A way to save ourselves—I’m aware I have the capability to bring the change we need
Because while mankind’s poison trickles down the hills, seeps into the soil,
The Earth lives within my soul, giving me the courage, I need to take the lead
IN THE LAND OF SORROW, A FUTURE TAKES FLIGHT
Toqa Alshwatreh
Beneath the olive branches, a tale unfolds,
Where hearts ache, and sorrow takes hold.
War’s cruel dance, oppression’s heavy hand,
The earth weeps, as blood stains the ancient land.
Mountains tremble, witnessing the cries,
In the night’s canvas, where hope never dies.
Sunsets paint the sky with hues of pain,
Yet, in the ruins, resilience remains.
Rivers of tears flow to the boundless sea,
A plea for freedom, echoing endlessly.
Injustice scorches, like the midday sun,
But in the shadows, the fight has begun.
Amidst the chaos, a mother’s silent wail,
Holding her lifeless child, a heartrending tale.
May justice rise with the morning light,
In the land of sorrow, a future takes flight.
it’s november
Keira Johannson
it’s november
and if i close my eyes for long enough,
i can smell the evergreen trees
in the backyard of my childhood home,
hear the rain trickle down towards
the fallen leaves on the dirt.
down by the river,
a family of salmon travels
downstream while a bear cub
watches from afar and
learns how to survive on fish.
it’s november
and if i close my eyes for long enough,
i can return to the woods and mountains
and ocean, admiring their beauty.
but instead i sit in front of a screen and
learn how to survive midterms.
Staff Writer (Volume 50) — Keira is in her third year at UTM, working toward a double major in Communications, Culture, Information, and Technology (CCIT) and Professional Writing and Communications (PWC). She is a writer, photographer, filmmaker, music lover, nature enthusiast, and above all, a health and wellness advocate who cares deeply about the world around her. When she’s not working or studying, you’ll find her reading her favourite lit-fic novels in the park or booking spontaneous trips around the world.