Teen poetry
Flame
By Ben Johnson
The shaman chanted an ancient wail
As he danced on the threshold of the fire’s light,
And eternity.
He placed his palm upon my forehead,
Channeling secrets of space and time,
Memories from years past and years to come.
The pulsating embers of the fire revealed a gate
Intertwined with slithering vines.
Beyond the gate, stood the dawn of a liberated world:
Canyons, wild and deep,
Rivers, swift and pure.
Without words, the shaman spoke,
And I turned around.
Behind lay the grave
Of an abused world at its end.
As quickly as it had come,
The scene before me dissipated,
Absorbed back into coals
Of the soft flame.
— Ben Johnson is a senior at Lawrence High School.