Burst of Life
A poem written by reporter, Brenna Cummiskey
I want to go to India
You know
Into one of those beautiful color parades filled with music, laughter and explosions of red, orange, yellow and purple powders filling the atmosphere.
I want to visit a local street fair, meet new individuals
A wise old man with wrinkles so deep they look like they’ve been carved into an art form
Wrinkles so deep you wonder what is inside
And the crease of his smile so wide you can just tell that he has lived an extraordinary life
Sun kissed skin, bruises, a bronze skin color, hair in patches with gray fluff on top
I want to ask him about his children, grandchildren
I want to ask what makes him smile wider than the sun
I want to try his home made naan and curry, ask him what religion he studies, if any, and what I can to to live an extraordinary life too.
I go onto a rickety bus
No windows
A thick layer of dirt covering the whole bus that you would never know the color was as yellow as a bumble bee.
We drive though the main part of the town
I see a little dog sitting near a building, she looks tired but fulfilled at the same time
She is nursing her babies trying to make them rest
She slowly licks their little brown heads until they close their tiny eyelids
Covering the bright blue iris that shines like the ripple of the moonlit ocean at midnight
The essence in the air is earthy
Fresh
Smelling of fresh soil.
I whiff turmeric
Garlic
Pepper
I smell simmering vegetables in pots
Fresh steamed rice with steam emerging like ghosts are haunting the entire village
Creeping their white, fluorescent hands upon all of us
Seducing us with their scrumptious fragrance
I step out onto the soil
I remove my shoes
And I walk up to this group of children.
Feeling the earth between my toes makes me feel like I’ve sunken into the planet itself
I am united
I am free
I am being
I walk up to one of the little boys and I wave
I’m not sure if they understand at first but then suddenly…
He says, “Hello!”
I’m shocked
I say, “Hi there, how are you?”
He turns his head looking confused
Like that look you get from your puppy when they don’t understand you
I thought to myself quietly, whilst he was still looking at me, along with all of his friends
Then boom!
I got it!
I whipped out a piece of paper, and used my palm to fold it in a like manner
Then with my hand closed
I hold it out to the little boy and I gently grab his hand and face it palm open
He grins in excitement
I release a scarlet colored paper crane into his little hand
Immediately after, he gives me a big hug
My stomach is fluttering and to be able to feel such connection with one I cannot physically speak to puts me in a whirlwind
It makes me feel like all of the earth’s species are connected
We are one
Your donation will support the student journalists of Mead High School. Your contribution will allow us to purchase equipment and cover our annual website hosting costs.

Brenna Cummiskey is a senior here at Mead High School. She loves creating meaningful artwork, volunteering with animals and jamming out to Indie music. Brenna wants her writing to emphasize and spread important messages to benefit the school as a whole.