Today we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2021 finalist Eleanor Yu! Eleanor finished 8th grade this past school year. Her poem is called “Transcendent Dreams.” We love the way Eleanor played with formatting in her poem.
TRANSCENDENT DREAMS
by Eleanor Yu
She ~ w e a v e s ~ through the masquerade
shadows r i p p l i n gÂ
velvet s w i s h i n g
Murmurs and whispers c h a s e —
that girl who follows her rules,Â
listens to her voice,
dreams to her r h y t h m,Â
bamboo against w i n d
Suddenly—
a chandelier drops, b r e a k sÂ
~ g a s p s ~Â
a minute before they had oohed, ahhed over it
now the glittering shards remain untouched
She shakes her head as she leaves them behind
Her mind,Â
tangled gossamer,
thorny clouds,
a bird with crooked wings
Her mind
shadows ebb to and fro
hands snake f o r t hÂ
Palms UP
Desperation takes her as kin
But the fingers part,
they always do,
melding with the black sea,
and she buries her head toÂ
weep
Then she sees—
A footprint,
a bottle,
a tiny scroll thrust before her
She dives after it
catches it
unfurls it
And—
She transforms.
Arms to wings. [ Legs ]
Trapped in a cave of hungry eyes.
Despair lays clammy fingers upon her skin—feathers.
Move.
Move!
Talons flex in, flex out
legs throb, buckle
wings a c h eÂ
What it once was to fly!
M O V E !
Legs s t r a i n,
wings f l u t t e r,
then—
down on knees,
bruised and scraped,
the shadows leer,
nearÂ
Ahead—
A footprint shimmers,
a bottle glitters,
a tiny scroll thrust before her
She inches forward
bends her beak
snatches it up
And—
She transforms.
Wind w h i p s around her
she shudders
wings back to arms
legs free
She smiles
shouts her jubilance
but sound?
Null.
Curves of the moor
slanted rays of light
n o n e in sight
She roams for days
throat parched, palms callused
now backstory gnawsÂ
at the back of her mind
A princess.
An heir.
Doomed to wander.
Fated to mourn.
Destined to pass
with no more than a single
.Â
—proof she had been.
What was it like to have it all but
lose…
e v e r y t h i n g?
Jagged shards cut at her heart
down on knees,
bruised and scraped,
the shadows leer,
nearÂ
Ahead—
A footprint glows,
a bottle shines,
a tiny scroll thrust before her
Hobbling with her b r o k e n knees,
her arms pumping,
she grabs the scroll
And—
She transforms.
Becomes
∞
Panic surgesÂ
Her heart beats wildly
a bird in a gilded cageÂ
She screws her eyes shut,
Grasps the sides of theÂ
∞
and simply
s c r e a m s
Her voice breaksÂ
Everything f a l l s  around her
Flings her a r m s o u t
Paper legs f a l t e r
down on knees,
bruised and scraped,
the shadows leer,
near,
C L E A R
Mirages shatter,
Illusions dissolve,
What is left?
Now back…
back in her room
lamp still glowing
bed still unmade
cracks in the mirror gone
Slowly, on tiptoes she rises
Surrounded by tides
Carrying doves
Finding her loves
Spreads her s h a t t e r e d wings
The b r o k e n ~ t h r e ads~ coming back together
She risesÂ
And rises
And rises
She has always been the trapped bird,
Always been the queen without a crown,
Always been so full yet so empty
No. More.
Small cogs
Big machines
Small perspectives
Big, big world
Unfair?
But true.
Then aim to be the biggest cog you can.Â
The biggest voice you can.Â
There will always be someone better.
Without your freedom, your voice, your being—you can be nothing.Â
But you are something.
Do the best you can
Sometimes no hands
Will come together for you
But you do you
And it will be all rightÂ
Build castles from the blood of your scars
Shape worlds from the ether of your heart
Transcend yourselfÂ
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