By Kelli Dolan

I’ve always thought that a picture says a thousand words, and a photo tells it’s own story, but some photographs can’t only speak for themselves. As a project for my photography class last year, I took a photo of two of my really close friends. Thinking nothing of it as more than a photograph I really liked, it wasn’t until months later that I believed there could be so much more to it. I saw it in a new light, a new perspective, and what I found there was a poem. This poem is the result of a photograph of two wonderful people who search for more beyond the confines of everyday life.

Discord and Din
Songs that evoke memories are always the sweetest,
or most tragic sounding songs.
The first chord plays, the first lyric is sung and instantly
a thousand feelings rush your veins.
Your heart matches the beat, and you want to be back
in that place listening to this song…
Or you skip the song because everything is too surreal
to relive this one moment that changed
Everything you ever knew about music, about yourself,
and about what you want a moment to be.
You let the melody elate or crush you, let it overcome you
in an epiphany of euphoria or poignancy.
Either you choose to sing along with the joy written in imprinted
smiles across your face,
Or you remain silent, let the music do the talking for the things
you are too afraid to remember.
Music can heal the soul. Or music can tear you into pieces
that fall away as the last note falls into silence.

Stars on the Horizon

She has her sights on the stars,
The universe reflected in her irises,
she dreams of bigger places,
more possibilities, and endless hope.
It dances through her soul as strong
and incandescent as the northern lights,
emanating with the inspiration to escape
the bonds that tie her to this world,
to escape the throes of the future unknown.
She blinks but once, the stars still remain,
and thus she relents, releasing herself
to the expanse of the never-ending,
she has her sights on the stars.

She has her eyes on the horizon,
the sunset imprinted in her irises,
she dreams of long distances,
more opportunities and endless euphoria.
It sings in her heart louder and more
resilient than the songbirds melody,
surging with the desire to set free the
emotion that roots her in unforgiving monotony,
to set free the potential that will transform her.
She closes her eyes, yet the colors still remain,
with that she succumbs, seduced by the timeless
line that never stops, always just out of reach