The Wise One

by Jordan Ruffing

Am I the wise one or am I the fool?

Should I follow my gut or think this one through?

Can I do it of my own volition?

I must go to the dark places.

I know them well, indeed.

Resentment knows me like an old friend.

It drops by like an uninvited guest. I can feel it growing like an orchid.

Will it make me snap, or will I bend?

Could I have prophesied this turn?

Would I be a fool to ignore it?

If I were wise, then I would know.

I’m sick of wondering myself away.

It’s time to learn to accept change.

That doesn’t make it any easier, though.

Why

by Jasmine-Joy Ignacio

Sometimes I would ask myself why. Even with my youthful age there was no excuse for the falls I had faced in my life. The falls that revealed the grubby dirt, the scuffed path, The difficult journeys and the truth twisting strife. I would ask myself, why?

I know how I look with my restless face With my mind that’s in and out of space

With my exhaustion thats weighing me down after an unfinished race, I know.

But I’ve realized that through this dark and perilous forest, With the unresting storms, The unfamiliar sights, The broken trees

The crescending wind that blows and scuffles the rotting leaves, That it wasnt me.

There was this hand.

This hand that helped me up and guided me, Guided me and protected me. The hand that wiped my tears away. But it wasn’t just any hand, It was a

A Righteous Right Hand.

Yet I am still asking why.

But it isn’t for the same reasons.

Why do I thrive on this Earth?

Why am I happy with my mistakes?

Why am I satisfied with my problems?

Happy through persecutions?

Happy to endure without refusion?

Why was I able to remain stable and stay steady through the hardships when I knew I wasn’t ready?

Why was I able to stand and endure and love everything even throughout the hard times?

I’ll tell you why,

Lord God, it is because of you. Because you are my reason why.

Frozen Dreams

a

short story by Devin

Kipp

It was raining. Water to wash away the grit, the grim and the gross from the streets; water to wash me. I walked letting the small droplets hit my face. The light sting of the liquid sprayed across my skin. It was bitter. Each droplet stings like iron made ice.

A rumble of hunger echoes inside me. It had been three days, three days since I’d had something to eat. At least I thought it had been, perhaps it was only two. Either way, my stomach did not agree to stop working, but I could hardly afford to pay him. Hunger it was, until the next stranger decided to be kind. A soft chuckle escaped my lips at the thought. The streets were mostly empty; a cold rain like this, people would rather stay inside, stay warm. Only us homeless would be caught out in such dreadful weather. We had no fire to keep us warm, no bed to rest our heads on. No meals to eat.

As I came around the corner to my usual spot something caught my attention. A new advertisement had been placed on the billboard off in the distance. A woman with long, curly blonde hair and golden, honey eyes. Her smile was a perfect brilliance of white, lips as red as an apple. She was beautiful and kind; she must be kind, her eyes told me so. At least I’d have something to look forward to every day as I made my way to this sleeping spot. I sat on the slanted pavement of the underpass. Rocks had been placed into the cement as it was settled, an effort to keep us homeless away from the public. Like we were vermin in need of extermination or a rabid dog, too dangerous to be let loose, they were simply too kind to say as much. So, they place rocks instead.

The sun was setting, although it was hard to tell. The sky showed no change in color, just different shades of gray. Still, it was growing darker as time passed and soon night fell over the city. The cars passed by, their taillights a red glow in the freezing rain, night obscuring the faces of the drivers. I wasn’t the only homeless out that night. Many of the others slumped in a bundle of clothes and tattered blankets, hiding under the freeway, the cold whisking the stench of our corpses away into the air.

“You damn near fell off the bar.” A pair of young men made their way toward me, their coats a thick layer of protection against the night air.

The other young man burst out laughing. “I was dancing!”

“That’s what you call dancing?” The two of them laughed as they drew closer. I could smell the liquor on their breath from here. I watched as the two continued to taunt and tease each other, each joke calling forth a chorus of laughter. Something about it seemed so familiar, the laughter of youth, the freedom. It felt so close, yet so far away. My mind reached out trying to grasp at the memory, but like many others it floated away like a gust of wind before I could truly realize it. Nothing made any sense anymore. I grumbled to myself, turning away from the two young men as they walked past. Like most others, they passed without a glance in my direction, as if I didn’t even exist.

Nothing I wasn’t used to.

I wonder how I got here. What was my name? Who was I? Who am I now? Everything was lost to the abyss, even the two young gentlemen. Their faces already a blur, their voices breaking into a whisper. I wonder if everyone is as lost and confused as I.

The mountain of belongings I had piled next to me under the bridge would be considered trash by most, but to me it’s all I had left. I sifted through the dirt to find a few tattered blankets that had been left around by someone more fortunate than I. Sleeping on the cold concrete would be unpleasant. Luckily for me there was a bench nearby that wasn’t claimed yet. One that was guarded against the wind, a bus stop. I took my bundle of blankets and dirty clothes and used them to make a cot, or something that resembles a cot atop the bench, wrapping myself in the remainder of my clothes I tucked myself in for the night. Even with my mountains of protection and three walls to guard me, the wind still slipped in between the folds of my clothes and blankets. Nipping at my skin, sapping my heat. A chill could be felt beyond my flesh. It dug deep into the marrow of my bones, refusing to be warmed. My body began to shiver of its own accord as if I were possessed by a demon. I let my thoughts wander to more joyous things. An image of a woman with long blond hair. Her smile was one that lit the room, her eyes soft and warm shined with the golden hue of honey.

She was beautiful. I know not who this woman was or why she visited me in my thoughts, but she seemed familiar, like a friend or sister? Perhaps a lover long lost that I had met in a different life? One that didn’t require me to sleep on a bench at a bus stop.

The wind picked up, filling the small box of my little home. It pushed some of the fabrics that covered me onto the ground before I could grab them. They were whisked away into the night, tumbling into the darkness. It was too much for me to move, my body ached from the cold and didn’t care too much about anything but resting. Another gust of wind picked up a few more articles of clothing that I thought were secured by my weight. They, too, drifted into the darkness. Now, the wind rushed through the pockets of empty space left by those who had abandoned me. The chill biting at my fingers and toes, sapping the moisture from my lips that cracked and bled, leaving behind dried, crusted skin. As the wind picked up more my mind focused back to the girl.

Such a beautiful girl.

Such a happy girl.

Sleep was calling my name as the feeling in my limbs abandoned me.