Stories of Home

Voices Home

SISTER
Photo and found poem by Magdelawit Takele, age 15

My sister. my best friend.

never truly judged. kind
open

always
there for each other.

my role model
will always be my sister. She always
truly listens to me.

I can talk to her hours on end.
never one sided.
She gives advice on the problems and issues in my life
We cried
together we laughed together
true friend.
I will always
respect her. My sister. best friend.

HOME
Photo and poem by Maya, age 15

HOME is where the heart finds rest,
Where weary souls can feel their best.
It's where we go to find our peace,
And all our troubles seem to cease.

HOME is where we feel secure,
Where love and kindness are the cure.
It's where we're free to be ourselves,
And put our worries on the shelves.

HOME is where we find our light,
A place that makes our hearts take flight.
It's where we feel we truly belong,
And where we know we can be strong.

So let your heart be free to roam,
For when there is no storm you will find HOME. 

MOTHER NATURE
Photo and poem by Baban Gill, age 17

When will they cease the endless eradication?
And heed the wail of nature’s gift ​​
A trail of destruction we leave in our wake,
How long until we pause, how long until we break? 

The dark, sage-green trees disperse in the wilderness
As each human hews at a tree, one at a time
I become worried of the children that live in the trees

The songbird, scarlet tanager, and woodpecker,
Who will all lose their sanctuaries and vanish
When will they stop?

When will they spare the trees that breathe life?
As the axe falls on each tree, our world bleeds a little more

What will happen to Mother’s Nature?
If they keep barging into her backyard
Silence will rise, a mournful sound, 

The love that grew the creatures will       all               be                            gone

When will they stop?

NATURE’S HIDDEN TRUTH
Photo and poem by a Valued Voice, age 16

A bleeding heart is one that will never fade,
It lies in the frozen crevasse of the snow for days.
Shall it diminish? 
It is something I could not say.
But it shall be remembered for as long as it takes.
It was
silver when it went through 
the river.
It started to grow
When it hit the snow.
As its open wounds cry,
For help to be saved,
The luminous frost covers its face.

BEST HOME
Photo and poem by KA, age 15

The best home is one in which you can view
All the things that have a lovely hue
Just like the sea’s welcoming color blue

Or is it a home where you can hear 
All the sounds your mind holds dear
Sounds that are happy or ones that make you shed a tear

Or is it a home that lets you feel
As though everything around you is so real
It can range from the softness of a bed to the firmness of steel.

Or is it a home that gives the smell
Of multiple aromas that dwell
Whose sheer pleasantness can make you yell 

Or is it a home that lets you taste
Foods you’d never let go to waste
Foods you could always consume in haste

You might be asking then, which home is the best kind?
I’d say it would be all of these combined.