1. The Sea Keeps Its Own Time

The sea never hurries.
It breathes in slow, patient rhythm—
a pulse older than language,
older than the gulls that cry
over its restless shoulder.

Some mornings it shines like forgiveness,
all silver and soft-spoken.
Other days it roars,
throwing salt and grief against the shore
as if to remind the land
how fragile it really is.

I stand at its edge,
barefoot in the cold sand,
and it tells me nothing—
no secrets, no promises,
just the steady truth of motion:
come and go, come and go.

And maybe that’s enough—
to know that even when I leave,
the sea will still be breathing,
keeping its own time,
unbothered,
endlessly alive.

2. Joy, Unscripted

Joy doesn’t always arrive
with trumpets or fireworks—
sometimes it tiptoes in
soft as breath on a mirror.
It’s not always loud.
Sometimes it’s the silence
after the rain,
when the world smells like hope
and everything feels newly forgiven.
Joy lives
in a cracked joke between friends,
in a song you forgot you loved
playing in a store you weren’t supposed to enter.
It’s in the way your dog looks at you
like you’re the best poem ever written.
It’s that rush
when the sun breaks through gray clouds
and paints gold on your skin.
It’s finishing the last page
of a book that understood you
before you understood yourself.
Joy doesn’t wait
for a perfect moment.
It grows like weeds
between sidewalk cracks—
wild, stubborn, and free.
So maybe joy isn’t a destination.
Maybe it’s the way you walk the road—
barefoot,
arms wide,
laughing at nothing,
and everything.

3. Where the River Thinks

Poetry is the wind through pine,
A hush before the storm,
It carves the cliffs like patient time,
That sets the silence warm.

It’s rain that knows the weight of stone,
A leaf that writes the air,
A spark the mountain keeps alone,
But always longs to share.

It blooms where language loses shape,
Where roots outgrow the ground—
Poetry is nature’s secret tape,
Wound tight, then gently unwound.

4. Sunlit Shore

The waves come dancing, soft and slow,
Their laughter chimes in tones of gold.
The sand remembers every toe—
A map of footsteps, warm and old.
The breeze is sweet with salt and sun,
It hums lullabies to seashells white.
The tide brings gifts at break of dawn—
A starfish, smooth as morning light.
Oh, stretch your hands to catch the sky,
Let summer paint you bright and free.
The ocean sings—just listen nigh—
It’s singing songs of peace and glee.

5. The Birch’s Whisper

Silver light drips through the canopy,
a thousand suns trembling on dewy grass.
The river hums in fractured tongues,
carving secrets into smooth obsidian.
Wind unties the mountains’ knots,
scattering snow like forgotten letters.
A fox pauses in the firelight,
ears twitching to the earth’s slow pulse.
Dawn spills from a cracked acorn,
growing roots where my shadow blurs.
The world exhales—
and I am caught in its breath.

All five poems were written by by Youtao Cao, age 9, Japan. He adds: “I am a multilingual writer currently living in Tokyo, Japan. At home, I speak Chinese. I study in English at an international school and am also learning French and Japanese.
“I have a deep love for reading and writing in English. So far, I have read over 500 English books—more than 100,000 pages in total—and I especially enjoy stories and poems that explore memory, identity, nature, and emotion.”

Art by Youtao Cao, age 9, Japan