Evergreen

By Kriya Shah

Hair the color of summer bark,

Yet eyes explode like winter frost.

Your roots were planted long ago

But your ice composure slowly thawed.

Wars were fought inside your mind,

Steam burst out from your ears,

But your leaves turned in the following season,

And olives bloomed from my tears.

It took you loss to learn and live with yourself,

So when you gain,

Do you fortify your garden gates with pain?

Like the evergreen in every season,

You don’t wither with the rain;

Instead, you whittle doves in vain.

Cheeks still tinged with freezing flush,

But I don’t mirror your lovesick blush anymore.

My eyes still capture constellations,

But my finger’s bare of Saturn’s complications.

So instead, I’ll pray you strike gold after rain and sunshine.

If I wish you well after driving you to hell,

I’m not insane,

I’ve just learned how to grow up alongside the pain

When you’re burned by the shade of the sun’s shadow,

Are you ashamed?

What once drew two “uniquities” together was commonplace.

Like the seeds in hidden brindle pinecones,

Light helps quench the thirst to be

The center of attention amidst everybody.

In a couple hundred years from now,

The evergreen will start to chip away,

But its little details can’t be replaced;

And in my soul, we live to see another day.

Kriya Shah is a sophomore at North Penn, and has enjoyed getting involved with the vast opportunities offered in the NP community. A musician and writer from a young age, there is nothing Kriya likes more than a convoluted extended metaphor (except for maybe the album Evermore), and she hopes you feel the same.