Afterglow
Her beauty was stunning. You didn’t notice her metal crutches as she danced. They were part of her, hiding behind the wispy flows of her costume. The fact that she could do the intricate moves with only one leg was astonishing. Upon completing her dance, the audience gave a heartfelt standing ovation.
Backstage, her director and best friend fiercely hugged her. “See, I told you you could do this. You were magnificent.”
“It felt good to be back out there.”
“You are welcome to come back anytime. The stage loves you, and I think you love it as well.”
“No, I think I will go in a different direction. I was asked to come teach other handicapped students.”
“Wow, that would be marvelous. Showing others the beauty that can still be made by each of them regardless of their injury.”
“Yeah, that’s where I’m needed.”
Anger Cycle
Anger that breeds regardless
Makes chances of change hopeless
With hope taken out of the equation
Life leans more toward abrasion
With abrasion, there is more tension
Any thought of love…no mention
Life without love is meaningless
Making anger breed regardless
Smiling
Joys of smiling come from things we love
The smell of flowers or the warm sun above
Maybe it’s the squeal of a child with a toy
Or snuggling a puppy that brings us that joy
Regardless of what it is for each individual one
It’s a practice we continue for love or for fun
For a smile with others also makes them smile
Helping us carry life’s joys for a good long while
Our Dream
Mark stared at the embers, still smoldering. “It’s all gone.”
“Not really,” said Samantha, “we will start over.”
Mark looked out across the hill down into the valley. Everything was burned beyond understanding. The wildfire got caught in the storm, sending it ravenously along, eating everything in its path.
“I don’t see how,” he said. “Maybe we should go home.”
“No. We will rebuild. It will be hard, but we can do it. The house was spared. This was our dream.”
Mark stood looking at the charred vineyard, feeling hopeless. “Our dream gone,” he thought.
“Come,” beckoned Samantha as she bent down to the vines closest to her. Taking a small pocket knife, she cut off one of the charred vines. “See, the vine is not dead. We lost this year’s new growth, but the main stalk is still green.”
“Rebuild, really?”
“Yes, this was our dream.”
Memories
Sleepless night…fearful thought
What will be the outcome brought
Day of fun, no need for a gun
Scattering many from this deed done
What purpose comes of thoughts this bad
For deeds so dark and outcomes so sad
Engulfed forever of what was to be fun
Are memories now of deeds that were done
~~~
G.A. Neal is a writer who loves to tell stories from her heart that hopefully encourage others. Her words remind us that whether the world surrounding us is bright and beautiful or dark and scary, we can always have a hand of hope holding us keeping us safe. G.A. was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. Click HERE to see her previous features. In 2021, she was a Pushcart Prize Nominee for her piece A Monarch Task. This is her second feature this year.
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