This is a poem by Meuna who is 7 years old on his mother’s birthday: enjoy.
Nobody knows that I died a long time ago.
But she would have known,
Even from the slab at Melen.
The Angel offered to seize it all: Your peaceful days gathering water Your anonymity doing God’s ways, Waiting for
Dear Readers, I had to share this little jewel from my 8-year-old son; something special he wrote for his precious mum. It’s so unexpected that
They say glass is made from sand, and I’ve witnessed In documentaries how men take the so-rough-and-ugly To make these marvelous pieces, that hold the
I’m mostly skin-colour blind, but in this post I want to reflect on the struggles within the black communities. You know that moment you have