Singing by Pablo Hernandez

Have the angels sung
For the child in the manger?

Have the shepherds come

Despite the danger?

Look at the wise men

With gifts in hand.

Finders of my Lord

In a far away land.

Kingly men, 

But worshipping him.

Humbly bow, 

Finding him at the inn.

A story that lives 

In my heart so long.

From Bible readings

And sacred songs.

I go to him and 

Find a love so profound.

A love that sees me

I can hear the sound

Of angels singing,

Of love so full,

Of the hearts rejoicing

At his loving call.

Spilling The Tea

Dear World - Dear Society,

I’m not interested in your games.

I sit and I love my life, and every day is the same.

I don’t pay attention to all you have to say.

I read, I walk, I drink my tea,

And that is my own rebellious way.

I don’t care to hear opinions and all the banter is insane.

I paint, I hear music, I drink more tea,

And that is my own rebellious way.

I’m sitting and I’m dreaming of a world without chaos and strife.

I’m giggling because this is my world, my rebellious way, my life.

By: Miller Laffoon

November 18, 2025

The Mornings Bring Pale Yellow by Aulton Grubbs

 

The morning brings pale yellow light into my room

Later and later each day

It’s like a slow motion film

It’s quiet and has soft edges

It’s a little fuzzy and feels hazy but so comfortable

I can sleep a minute more

Each day. When I dream I never wake

I open my eyes and I can tell it is fall

Lyla has learned the Fate of Ophelia and is singing it

It’s a beautiful lesson for a young woman

Elodie is still steadily breathing a calming feeling 

For her, and it gathers air into my lungs  

I notice a new light in the hall

The front door is open, caroling with the patterns

Of a changing season and a cool breeze

These sneaking wisps of sound 

Make a hymn. The girls hustle around, plant kisses

On my forehead and it’s quiet again

Mom chats with me while I get ready 

She reminds me of the date, our schedule, and reads

The weather. Last week we had a big

Ferociously glorious storm, but each day since,

Mom laments No rain today

Dad, though, rushes in and says loudly 

With relief, Aulton it is raining, come outside

I hurry, there is one tiny cloud, a soft shiny one

Right above my house. It spills over my mind,

Mists over my heart, and sprinkles 

My soul with a miracle. It only lasted a few minutes

But God made me my own cloud today

And I will never forget this goodness that

Is kindness in the form of pure water

Mind Over Emotion by Joshua Greiner

 

I’m delighted mom helps me change my thinking

I need help remembering life

Is hard, however it is human instinct

To overthink my lack

Of control. Everyone loses control sometimes

My instinct is to go back

To childhood how I 

Was bullied

God’s quiet help

Overcame his voice

Higher than the bullies

More numinous than human children

Emotions take me back

To that playground long ago

I limit my eating living in the painful past

When I’m dysregulated I hear their ridicule

Equal to hearing my own judgment 

I honestly listen longer to them 

Than to god. I need to make my mind 

Nicer to me. Mind controls emotion. 

I need to listen to god. 

No man is higher than god.

Brynn Forstner

 What I Have Noticed

A common misconception about autistics is that because of our apraxia we are non-thinking and also incapable of learning. While this subject is near and dear to my heart, I would like to bring another issue to people's attention. The condition is Chronic Lyricosis and it affects thousands, if not millions of people worldwide with no cure in sight. Chronic Lyricosis is a person's inability to identify and correctly sing lyrics to well known songs. I want to stress that these people are mentally intact and need our patience and we must remember to be respectful.

My own sister has been heard belting out "Now bring us the friggin' pudding" instead of figgy pudding throughout her childhood when singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas". Sadly she is not the only one affected. Our neighbor can be heard singing ABBA's  "Dancing Queen" as "young and sweet like a tangerine". My brother thought "Sweet dreams were made of cheese" for years. It's such a shame when I hear "Living On A Prayer" changed to "living on a prairie" by my father. 

Devastating as this disorder can be, we must remain kind and support these poor souls.  Love, understanding, and acceptance are what we all need in the world. So when you hear someone singing Bob Dylan "These ants are my friends, they're blowing in the wind", remember to be kind. They don't have the same lyrical discernment that you and I have.

Sonnet by Nadia Sohn Fink

 

Hats in a thinking stance ready to shape the head

Proof of the mind’s wearer 

Letting the outside self be read

Keeps fault with the message bearer

Farthest from title the given name

Self that no pity sows

Was maker of one semblance same

Quiet title no one knows

Poor hat! Detail telling one mark

The startled start of the round sewn

Sign to make the yellow lark

Sing the lost wound gown

With one set sign the wearer torn

Takes the message never born

Thomas Callahan

 

Spring - season to sing

Rain - hope that it brings

Flowers - yellow on green

Sky - cloudy and wind

Houses - faded and dim

Streets - lonely and quiet

Spring - season to sing

Rain - hope that it brings

Shadows - sending the words to the sky above

River - flowing in my song.  How far it has gone.