By Markie Doczi | Featured Contributor
You aren’t in the frames
But you’re the one behind the lens
Not always at the starting gate
But cheering at the end
Your step-kids cannot see at first
You’re here for their own good
They only see you in the spot
Where once their mother stood
By Yvonne Aoll | Featured Contributor
Last June, I went blind in my left eye from a laser eye surgery gone wrong.
It would take a speedy instinctive quest for a second opinion, three more months, an older more experienced surgeon and another agonizing correction surgery, for my left eye’s vision to be restored. Thanks to the top-notch, wildly skilled, second ophthalmology surgeon I visited, I can see much clearly now with both eyes, with no need for spectacles or contacts. However, the months during which my left eye remained blind, while filled with unspeakable worries, also served as a crash course in mindfulness.
Continue reading “Blackout: How Going Blind for 3 Months Taught Me to Be Mindful”
By Cynthia Cady Stanton | Featured Contributor
Each step forward seems a challenge…
There are rocks to dodge
and some of them with sharp edges.
Sometimes there is a soft landing
and the sweetness
of toes and heals being held.
This sweetness,
this softness,
lands right into my heart.
By Anabel Geneta-Raymundo | Featured Contributor
In the midst of nowhere you arose,
Like a thief in the soundless night.
Unlocked entrances are now closed.
The world is enveloped with fright.
Your poison lingers everywhere.
Waiting for a susceptible target.
Both old and young hide in scare.
No one can escape your threat.
By Rhonda Barnes | Featured Contributor
Author’s Note: This is a poem dedicated to my eldest daughter, Jamie. She is an inspiration to me.
* * *
She was beautiful, perfect, the first to call me momma,
the one with sweet demeanor, the one without the drama,
left me in awe when she spoke her first words,
absolutely overwhelmed me when first steps occurred,
Kissed my tears away
when disappointment ruled the day,
I dressed her in pretty dresses and socks with ruffled trim,
brushed her long brown hair and taught her how to swim.
By Cara Amy Goldthorpe | Featured Contributor
Nothing that I have
feels like it is mine
anymore
because we have
transcended the
time, of material
wealth;
attachment to
possessions, and
physical
temporary
things –
By Leon Stevens | Featured Contributor
Stop. Feel that?
The warmth of the sun
The breeze on your face
Rain. It has its own unique smell
Feels like tiny punches when it lands
Wherever you are
There is beauty and wonder about
Even if seemingly insignificant
A smell, a color, a sight, a feel
There is always something to appreciate
Like cool grass under bare feet
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