"Autism & Memoirs of an Old Maid"…C'hele's Story

June 10, 2009


Filed under: Poetry — C'hele @ 08:05

My heart aches

For what I am unsure-

For deep within,

A knowing that no words could tell

Slowly awakens my mind.

The light in my eyes reflect

An illumination not mirrored in the other.

But upon eyes truly locking together

The heart leaps with recognition

That the mind in this life-time had forgotten.

Soul mates are never forgotten by the Spirit

And the unfortunate part is,

Sometimes those who have not experienced awareness

Miss the ability to see-

But sometimes- all it takes,

Is for that other person to pay just enough attention

To gaze at the glow in your eyes

In order to trigger their heart to remember.

And for that split second,

A life-time of memories of a love well-known,

Is again, reborn.


June 9, 2009

I’m Gone

Filed under: short stories — C'hele @ 04:54
I know I am gone. I know my family and friends are upset. I am upset 50%

because I wont get to see my family again and I never got to see my family again

and I never got a chance to say goodiey (goodbye) to my friends and family.

The outher (other) 50% why I am not sed (sad) is because I died in something I

love doing wiyle (while) I used to live on earth. I had a good life. My family

teatched (teached) and treated me well. My friends wher (were) nice and kind to

me. I had fun with my friends. I may be gone but I’m not lost. I will aksedently

(accidentally) touk (took) another path. You think I may be gone but I’m not.

Nomater (no matter) wher you go…nomater wher you are I will always be with

you right by your side every secone (second) of the rest of your life. In this note

is my one last chance to say goodbiey and have a good life. Don’t be sad or

afraid because I will be with you every step of your way looking down and

whatching you for as long and the rest of your life. Remember I didn’t die of

something or eneything (bad). I died in a place of something I loved doing.


P.s. Don’t be afraid to try eneything.


My daughter presented this short story/letter to me this afternoon after school.  It took everything in me not to show obvious panic.  Because my daughter’s autism enables her to articulate to me exactly what this was about (due to communication impairments) it took a long time to get out the real story.

For those unfamiliar with my daughter, she has been taking formal esquestrian horse back riding lessons for about five years now.  When I read this, excuse the language, I almost crapped.  After a half an hour, of trying to figure this out, I finally got a reason as to “why” she wrote something like this.  She thinks this is a “poem” by the way.  To my shock, Michaela has expressed to me that she wants to write a book.  A book about a girl like her, who’s friends played a prank on her over at a horse stable.  The prank, caused the horse to rear up and fall backwards, killing both the horse and the rider.  The horse broke its neck and the rider was crushed by being pinned by the horse.  Michaela’s idea was that the girl in the story somehow “knew” that the possibility of an accident occuring whilst horseback riding could happen at any time.  So, the girl thought that perhaps its a “good idea” that she write a letter to her family and friends telling them how much the riding meant to her and that she died loving what she was doing.  The letter of course, was secreted away until found after her death. 

I am stunned.  Looking down at the paper on which Michaela wrote, I did not notice the handwriting.  Its suddenly changed.  Her spelling has improved greatly.  I had NO idea she could clearly echo down on paper what was in her head.  I am shocked (and happy- sort of) to find what kind of an imagination she has. 

“This idea just popped into my head, I have no idea how it happened mom.”

I feel sick to my stomach.   


June 7, 2009


Filed under: Poetry — C'hele @ 10:42
It is brisk this early misty morning-

The cheeks tingle from the earths morning breath.

The surrounding forest gives light and colour despite the grey mists

Giving respite to the absent sun.

Closing my eyes and lifting my face

I surrender myself to the baptism of nature.

The kiss however,

Came somewhat of a surprise-

Unknown voluptuous lips as soft as flower petals

Made intentional, tender contact,

And the caress of that kiss

Lingered like fire upon my lips.

As our lips sensually parted I observed,

That the breath between us

Was as cool and moist as the very air around us,

Leaving my lips swollen and wet,

And yearning for more.

I opened my eyes and looked about

But the figure was no more.

Just then, the sun manifested and the forest was light up with golden light.

I reached up and touched my lips with my fingertips for they were still burning.

I knew I would never be the same again nor would I look at my life the same way again.

Because no man on earth, could ever compete with a God.


June 4, 2009


Filed under: Poetry — C'hele @ 09:39
Hearts sometimes collide the minute unfamiliar eyes meet

And whilst the invisible vibe burns between two unacquainted people,

The longing to touch, pains my fingertips.

 Turning my face to avoid the powerful gaze day after day

I secretly long to drown within those sea-blue depths.


Discernable common sense reminds me of our dissimilar stations in life.


Allow me keep to my fantasy going-

That your inner beauty is just as profound as your outer beauty.

I am the faithful type you know.

I have made pledge to the universe long ago-

That I wouldn’t settle for anything less

Than an authentic, modest soul.

My love would never expect anything more.









June 2, 2009

The Yogic Journey

Filed under: Poetry — C'hele @ 08:28

My body, mind, and spirit is on a new journey

And like the spirit, it is being tested often.



Let it be.

Let it go.

Sit and be still.

And listen.

The past is gone,

The future has yet to be,

There is only the present.


I am aware that there is a new meaning to the phrase:

“Go with the flow.”

I will accept things as they are,

I will not refute the obvious,

I will allow myself to grow,

I will move supplely like water.


Whilst on this yogic journey,

If only I could bend like a pretzel.


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