Palmtree Contemplations

So this is what it is to be held? This strange peace that settles So soft and still Like dust caught in sunbeams. So this is what it is to be held? The yielding to love that comes Quiet and clear Like stars sparkling in the black. So this is what it is to be held?  This contentment that seeps in Slow and tingling Like the fire's warmth in winter.  So this is what it is to be held: The sureness that buoys, Firm and freeing Like the ocean holds me now.

I have been to lyceums before, but nothing could ever top Alex McDonald's incredible performance earlier this month. From the moment he stepped out on the BPAC stage, Alex was one of the most accessible performers I have ever had the privilege of hearing. Even the faculty went crazy over him, which is saying a lot since our faculty is very picky. Behind me, the Wubbenas kept making approving whispers to one another, and I think I heard Mr. Smith give an "Amen" after Chopin's Nocturne in c minor. I could not see Mrs. Rollene or Dr. Whitley, but I imagine they were both smiling. After the intermission, Alex did a lecture on and performance of Liszt's Sonata in b minor. I settled in for the sonata, which is hard for any pianist to perform, no matter how talented or experienced. It lasts for half an hour, but it was one of the happiest half hours of my life. When I saw him reaching for the last note I wanted to say, "Oh, no, don't play it. Replay one of the

I was dozing in the saddle when I felt Starlight come to a halt. I looked around, wondering where we were. Surrounding us were green hills, and mountains beyond. "This isn't Perin," I stated, confused. "No, it isn't," Starlight answered. "But I thought- "I said we were going to Perin without making the usual stops. I didn't say we wouldn't stop from time to time. I can't walk and carry you all the way there without resting, don't you know," she answered in her huffy, unicorn way. Her long white legs folded as she settled down in the billowing grass. The wind was strong now. I stared at the mountains, suddenly concerned. There were storm clouds on the horizon. What kind of storms existed in this strange world? "Don't be frightened, little one. It is a little wind and a bit of thunder. Come, it will be getting colder soon," she lifted her wing, and I crawled beneath it. There are no words to describe the