Rithik Sinhasan

 

              

                              

Wonder who we really are by Arth S.

 

In a mesmerizing lasting summer hour

Resting on a sleepy star

Hastened, wearing purple masks

Some thoughts on who we really are

Seeds of golden ageless trees 

Dreams of painted destinies

Thoughts of river, rain and stars

Wonder who we really are.

Ekphrastic Poem by Fox

 

Nice babbling

It's peaceful

It's lovely

Not quiet

But not loud

I have so many memories

In this place I haven't visited

It's made for me

On Becoming an Adult by Ryan Shank-Rowe

 

I'm excited to become an adult.

I'm excited to try to be able to live with other friends.

I know it will be somewhat difficult but I am ready for the challenge.

Having a goal is always inspiring and I know I can do it with some help. 

Ryan Shank-Rowe

Collaborative Poem Inspired by Sasha's Poem

 

      

Sometimes I wonder what is love.

Is it the communication of trees?

Is it mine for the asking?

Is it giving a smile in the hard times?

Is it a melody?

Is it family?

Is it a baby’s smile?

Is it car rides through tunnels and along the mountain side?

Is it my friends supporting chats?

Is it beating of a heart?

Is it something from within or above?

Sometimes I wonder what is love?  

Is it sitting and sharing words with friends?

Is it friends who understand you?

Is it the sunshine on your face?

Is it happy light?

Is it a gentle kiss on the cheek? 

Is it walking on the cloud?

Finding Community by Luke Schneider

 

Caring Connections

Opportunity to Grow

Melding Minds

Making Friends

Understanding Self and Others

No Judgement

Inquiry

Trusted Guides

“You Are IN!”

Sometimes I Wonder What is Love...By Sasha Rainer

 

Sometimes I wonder what is love. 

Is it a flower’s happy song? 

Is it a ringing growth of trees? 

Is it a charming trill of birds

Awaking beautiful sunrise?

Is it an ocean morning waves

That whisper peacefully and nice? 

Is it a smile on your face,

Or holding hands, or darling eyes? 

Sometimes I wonder what is love.

Is it a friendly mother’s voice?

Her soothing song, her wise advice,

Her words of love to memorize.

Is it a warm, comforting home

Stored in your heart?

When times are rough, come back,

And worries of the day 

Will disappear sure enough. 

Sometimes I wonder what is love.

Love dwells in every word above.

Group Poem in Response to Sophia's Poem

 

If you knew what I know      

I'd know we'd understand each other

If you knew what I know

You would delight in the day and not worry, fret, or fray.

      

If you knew what I know

You'd be revelling in what's to come

      

If you knew what I know

I would quietly ask you to spell your truth.

      

If you knew what I know      

Your heart would soften. Your mind would slow down.

      

If you knew what I know      

Then silence would reveal hope and words would bring you triumph.

      

If you knew what I know

You would slay the dragons of fear and face life with brave learning

      

If you knew what I know

You would feel more love than you could hold.  And you would see what we all want is to be accepted and loved

      

If you knew what I know

You would be brightest star

      

If you knew what I know

You would say real change is possible.

As people see real nonspeaking intelligence they will embrace it.

      

If you knew what I know      

You would make more than moments of understanding but would make me respond honestly more often

      

If you knew what I know

You would’ve been more kind to me.

      

If you knew what I know

You would not waste a single moment on anything that is not full of grace

Aiden Levy Sirius XM Radio Host

 

Hi friends! When I wrote an article with my dad last fall about my journey, I was asked to write a bit about myself for a video. I wanted to share this with you to give you more insight into my life. Thank you!

 Meet Aiden Levy, nonspeaker with autism and SiriusXM radio host 

A poem by Sophia Kapoor

 

If you knew what I know

You wouldn't despair

You would let go

And ease

You must not let

Hurt and angst

Wound you

Callous indifference

Pierce you

Worry consume you

The lack of friends, milestones

Jarring harsh truths

Consume you

It all eases in its own way

We all come with our own unique story

Some call it destiny

But I have learnt

To be in the moment

Not expect or control the outcomes

Is that what maturity is 

Hallucinations by Ruhi Khanna

 

Need story notes, brain is fried

Neurotic stray ideas have dried

Should it be a love glow?

Should it be a death blow?

Can you put a twist?

Can you hide a tryst?

Will it happen in a manor?

Will it play in a banner?

Does our curse lives on tomorrow?

Does the girl have time to borrow?

What seeds rise from the fire?

What races survive the mire?

When will the story end?

Before it begins or when I hit send?

Devon's Spirituality Documentary

On a previous post, you saw some of our spellers' reflections on our friend Devon's spirituality documentary. For those who would be interested in seeing it for yourselves, the link is attached below. It is an amazing watch and I am sure you will be as moved by it as much as we were!

https://youtu.be/Kp0GGyNNy-U 

Daydreaming by Miller Laffoon

 

February 25th, 2026

I’m sitting and thinking and wondering something strange.

If a magical man came to wash my autism away,

Would I let him? I’m not so sure I would.

I think many might let him, if they could.

But mine is a flying sparrow that is loving and sweet.

It means a lot to be given special gifts that are a treat.

I sing with my mom and I read with my dad.

So much time together that I wouldn’t have had.

I have so many friends in so many places.

A group of angels with familiar, kind faces.

I appreciate studying and reading is a wonder.

I sometimes think that maybe autism isn’t a blunder.

I wouldn’t have all of this if I had a typical mind.

I might not sit and really listen and I might not have time,

To share all of my thoughts and paint the world with colors so bold,

I might not appreciate nature and be in a hurry to get old.

I might be silly and maybe I’m just plain wrong,

But I think autism is the heart and melody of my most magnificent song.

Spirituality Reflections of Our Book Club

 These spirituality reflections are in response to a spirituality documentary by our friend, Devon

Aiden-I find most majestic peace in nature

Nadia-Nature and ancestors are where spirit dances me

Fox-Do make the best of being in nature, it's good for mind and body

Brielle-God loves us quietly. We are all a family.

Brynn-I feel very strongly that God has a purpose for all of our lives. Life is a beautiful gift and I am blessed

Thomas-I have prayed in nature

Devon-If I could add one more thing it would be that spirituality is in everything even in inanimate objects

Pablo-Want to say that spirituality has to touch every moment that I live. It is in understanding and friends and good food and prayer and music. I am a spiritual being

Aulton-It's hard to explain, but taking a note from Devon, I would say God shows us love through his creations including everything in nature and all of our blessings. My relationship with Him is personal and sacred.

Quince-I would have talked about so nice that I can make my body run. I feel true freedom from my disability when I run

Miller-Calling on all Speller's to show the world that love is silent. I love to silently show that love isn't loud. God hears all we have to say and so do those that love us.

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