One Year Of Love Songs

Sarina Ariely

About Sarina Ariely

Sarina Ariely is a 14-year-old freshman at Gann Academy. She lives near Boston, Massachusetts with her parents and three younger siblings. In her free time, she enjoys writing and reading poetry, short stories, and essays, spending time with her friends and family, and listening to Taylor Swift. She loves collecting vinyl records, skiing, riding her bike, and playing tennis.

About One Year Of Love Songs

To answer this prompt, I wrote a poem. The poem captures a certain theme of the Shmita Year; rest. I wrote about the Shmita Year ending, and about the pressure that comes with it. Sometimes, after a long rest, we tend to not want to work anymore and want to remain “in hibernation.” To help explain this I quoted “Braiding Sweetgrass,” a book by Robin Wall Kimmerer that explains “alternative forms of Indigenous knowledge outside of traditional scientific methodologies.” The quote I used describes weather in the context of cycles, which I thought fit perfectly in this poem. The speaker is saying that they want cold weather—they want to stay isolated. I think that loneliness and rest oftentimes do go hand-in-hand. When you’re resting, you’re lonely, because you are only accompanied by yourself and your thoughts. I think that rather than the Shmita Year being a joyous occasion, it is a sad and lonely period of time. Work helps bring people together, and helps them stay motivated. I think that a break from work would just make people even more tired than they already were.

One Year of Love Songs

By Sarina Ariely

 

Now the farmers wake from their year of hibernation.

Lonely rest, how I long for you again.

I cannot bear to watch the animals rise,

The roosters should not shriek this early.

 

It’s three in the morning, and sleep is lost.

Fading hallucinations, I need you.

Chickens cluck bittersweetly at each other,

And I can feel what they are feeling, as though I am one of them.

 

Dreams, return to me

like flutters of hope from the clouds.

I am one of you now, “praying for the chilly rains of winter,”

A love song that is only played once every seven years.

 

Flutters of hope from fresh morning dew,

I can’t watch the animals rise and fall again.

Love song that’s only played once every seven years, 

Don’t let the farmers wake this time.