1988 School Magazine

ua::'

:

NEW FR.ONTNER. We Stand Today on the Edge of a New Frontier. Darkness ... Black warmth Sently encompassing my floating frame; f loating in fluid, warm as the knowledge of beirrg alivei water that fills my nose, my lungs, water that presses softly against my closed eyes, murmurs sweetly inside my ears. Trapped and protected by pulsing liquid, veiled in silken membranes, I wait. It is a sitrent world in which I Iive, and delicate. I could be so easiiy destroyed; a single blow would suff ice, yet I feel no fear. it is too peaceful here, too utterly tranquil to admit fear. I feel only the physical sensations of the warmth and the floating and the other, less tangible, sense of waiting' Occasionally, from |ar away, I hear sounds that press upon but do not broach my cocoon of silence. A rhythmic beating, even tempoed and unhurried, its source far beyond the conf ines of my universe, is carried faintly to my questing ears, its dull booming a reflection of the surging loud within my own chest. Less frequently, distant rumblings can be heard of other Iife, other lives, distinct from my own. lt is good; I like to know that I am not alone. I sometimes wonder about the future. I wonder about the past and present too, but it is the nature of the present to become, too soon, the past, and my past, sadly, is so very brief. The future, however, is full of possibilities to ponder. ls the world beyond my own hostile and alien or f riendly and welcoming? I cannot tell but I do not worry. Worry is for those outside the peace of my world. Wondering helps pass the time for time stretches endlessly when one is waiting. My universe is not boundless. lt is forever moving. Steadily it has been folding in around me, growing smaller and closer, or I have been growing larger, I know not which. Sometimes I feel the weight of my universe press down on me so strongly I fight to escape it but at other times it seems that I am spinning through a vast, unending hole of blackness, as if I was falling and would never, ever reach the bottom, not even if I kept falling until my world and allthe worlds were dead and cold as ashes. I think, perhaps, that this feeling is what is meant by eternity. Thinking ... All the time brain functioning and never ceasing. Never do I sleep and yet never have I awoken. Constantly my brain ticks over like a clock gone mad, registering feelings, thoughts, sensations - preparing me tor the end to the waiting. The waiting is almost over. Tension, hitherto unknown to me, mounts as my shifting world begins to compress and recede around me like a distant memory of waves lfPRing a sandy shore. I move, almost against my will, slowly, inexorably down a tunnel, fighting now to reach the end. I do not Inow what awaits 'i" utih" end; I only rnow thar to follow it is my destiny. Sounds, unfiltered by the insulation of my world, get louder and more demanding. Harsh lighi pours'ii a ll9wet over my still closed eyes making me wince with Praln an6 awe ai I leave behind my darkness. I am almost rnere.

The friendly water that {illed my lungs drains slowly away. Desperately now I struggle to the surface. Aii, sharp and heady, invades my nostrils. I have no need to breathe the water now for I have entered a new world, leaving my old one behind to fade f rom memory. I open my mouth to take my firstbreath in this new world and finally, finally, the long waiting is over. I am born.

by Narelle Keen, winner of the Betty Woolcock Challenge Cup (Years 11/12),1987.

Cry for Life - S. Floey (Year 12). THE PRAYING MANTIS

When at rest his arms Are raised in devout prayer, Such gentle eyes And wings folded like Japanese fans Disguise him as a creature

So mild and kind. He sees an insect - Suddenly all compassion Drains from his eyes And his arms transform lnto weapons That grip and tear. ln a blur of movement He seizes his prey And it is devoured. What deception is this? Such slender beauty, Within a deadly predator.

Marina Cominos Year B v-vinnei of Mary Alexis Macmillan Prize, 1987'- tll

i:, t:.