On the eve of midnight I scoured but found no light,
I looked out to see the world was as still as could be.
Some say time is a river, if so it flowed without a quiver,
a ripple once in a while, yet the world was asleep,
not tired nor senile.

It was as if the cricket were to say I should find my mind,
that was far far away,
I was so awestruck that it seemed the very still world,
dimly gleamed.

All the trees in the woods, all seemed to say,
the stress they had just seemed to flee.
Calmness washed over me and made me blank,
and all the sorrow in my heart just sank.
I forgot to think straight, I was in such a still state,
and every last leaf, every last vine,
the world was so carefree, but ever so fine.

-Rahul Kurien, 7th grade, age 12