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Mar 22, 2026
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Literary journal of the Northern Writers Forum.
© 2026 NWF Journal · Northern Writers Forum
Literary journal of the Northern Writers Forum.
Life Souvenir
In my home, night prayers water the seed of fellowship with the creator.
And every dawn, my grandmother summons us to prayer.
From infant, my grandmother had taught me how to count the rosary
with the mumblings that coated my tender tongue.
Now a boy, bred in morning chants of grandmother,
who whispers in her dream the fragments of her night prayer.
This night, grandmother’s voice is fainting;
she shivers as the rosary quivers in her hands.
Strands of hair under her mantilla are what I see.
Today’s prayer is the souvenir of life to heaven.
After the prayer, my grandmother tenders her tongue
into the shape of silence.
Transition
I found you & you found me. & how, like the eternal
dance of a river, our soul poured into each other.
From the first light to the deepest darkness
we knitted our heart into what housed our spirit.
Outside, our burdens fainting away while catching fireflies.
We knew not when the new moon returned & the stars
guided our way home. Remember, our flawlessness
sprouted away from our hearts as we stained our lips
a perfect color of rose. But now, time unfolds like an echo,
made indistinct by distance: our love is an old song.
