After Rain Skies: The Global Anthology

 

Michelle Ayon Navajas curated this anthology to raise awareness that the abuse of women is a global issue. Michelle advocates for Women's Rights in the Philippines and is an activist against all forms of international violence. My poem, "The Fountain," is included. Available on Amazon.com.

Thank you!

Dawn Pisturino

Every Woman is a Spiritual Mother

 

On Mother's Day, I wished all of my female patients "Happy Mother's Day!"

 

One young Native American responded, "I'm not a mother, but I've raised several children."

 

"Then you're a mother," I told her. She smiled happily.

 

One of the counselors spoke up. "I don't have any kids."

 

"You counsel our adolescents, don't you? Then you're a mother." She thought about this for a minute then nodded her head and smiled.

 

Biological motherhood is the most precious gift a woman can receive. To create new life, to feel that life growing in the womb, to nurture and love a newborn child, is the most wonderful experience in the world. But our love doesn't end there.

 

Most women, by nature, are empathetic, compassionate, and nurturing. We comfort the sick and dying, tend to the needs of our aging parents, open our homes to neighborhood children, babysit for a friend in need, care for our husbands and children, work tirelessly day and night, if necessary, and strive always to provide a safe, healthy environment. We let a co-worker cry on our shoulder, give advice over cups of coffee and tea, post funny and inspirational quotes on Facebook, and fight for good causes. We defend the helpless and hapless, create harmony and balance, and struggle to make ends meet. We love beauty and calm, tranquility and peace. We are tough when we need to be tough. We provide gentleness in a harsh world.

 

There are plenty of opportunities to "mother" children broken by abuse, neglect, and indifference: a neighbor child living down the street; a homeless child finding refuge in a local shelter; a juvenile delinquent sitting in a cell. 

 

There are plenty of opportunities to "mother" adults broken by alcohol, drugs, and hopelessness. Volunteer at a local homeless shelter or women's domestic abuse home. Go back to school and become a nurse, social worker, or counselor.

 

And don't forget our furry friends! Animals need love and protection, too. And there are so many organizations now that need donations of money and time.

 

Every woman is a spiritual mother. Let me honor all women and their capacity to give love and comfort in a difficult world by saying,

 

  THANK YOU!

 

Dawn Pisturino, RN

 

Copyright 2015 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.





 



Brother Sun, Sister Moon

A Story of Sibling Rivalry and Domestic Violence Based on a Traditional Cuban Folktale



A long time ago, Sun and Moon lived in a deep, dark cave on an island in the Caribbean Sea. 

Sun could not bear to live in such claustrophobic quarters. Day and night he paced the floor, grumbling and complaining, until one morning he said to Moon:

“Sister, this cave is too small, and our light is too bright. It’s blinding both of us! You’re smaller and weaker than I am. You must leave and find a new home.”

“Me!” Moon retorted, stamping her tiny silver feet. “This cave belongs to both of us. Since you’re so unhappy, you move out!”

Sun said no more. He paced back and forth, wringing his hands until they were raw. Glimpsing his reflection in the mirror he shrieked, “Look what you’ve done to me! My face is breaking out with sunspots!”

“What do I care,” Moon responded. “I’m not leaving, and that’s final.”

Enraged, Sun loomed over Moon, his face growing redder and hotter until bright orange flames shot from his fingers and toes and the ends of his hair.

“Stop it, Sun!” Moon cried, shielding her face with her arms. “You’re scorching me with your hot flares!”

Moon waxed and waned with terror, moaning in pain, until Sun grabbed her silver locks and threw her out of the cave. “And never come back again!” he roared.

Leaning against a banana tree, Moon wept until her full, shiny face shrank to a thin silver crescent.

Air, grieved by Moon’s distress, wrapped the pale, weak maiden in her arms and carried her into the sky above. “You’ll be safe here,” she reassured Moon. “The stars won’t mind sharing a little space with you.”

But Moon, ashamed of her scorched face, hid behind a passing cloud.

The stars welcomed Moon and tried to make friends with her. Gradually, Moon’s scorched face healed, and she peered out from behind the cloud. She revealed more and more of her radiant face until it lit up the sky with soft, silvery light.

Sun burned with jealousy when he heard about his sister’s spacious new home. “I’ll show her!” he fumed; and leaped into the air. 

Blanching with fear, Moon shielded her face from Sun’s blazing wrath and raced across the sky until she disappeared from view.

Sun proudly took her place, filling the sky with so much brilliant fire the stars covered their eyes and ran away.

One evening, feeling bereft, Sun left the sky to search the cave where he and Moon had once lived together. As he approached the entrance, Moon suddenly appeared. Overcome by remorse, Sun pleaded with her to return with him to the sky. “There’s plenty of room for both of us,” he said.

But Moon could not forget her brother’s bad behavior. “I hate you!” she shouted. “You’re nothing but a big bully! I could never live with you again!” And so saying, she leaped into the air, leaving Sun standing all alone at the mouth of the cave.

THE END

Copyright 2012 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.