By Lorraine Stark
Image via Unsplash @edwardhowellphotography
Image via Unsplash @ilerstoe
On one American morning, a virus came ashore, it does not discriminate,
it knocks on anyone's door
On one American morning, this invisible beast made humans its feast
On one American morning, our country decided to fight against the pain
and sorrow, now a familiar site
On one American morning, we will make this pandemic leave no forwarding
address
On one American morning, together we are strong, we are America we will achieve success
On one American morning, again, we will resume our daily routines, and not
forget, anything can change life in a minute
On one American morning, we will defeat the unknown
On one American morning the sun will rise, just like before
it will greet the young and old
On one American morning, again the alarm clocks will ring, school buses
will roll and a glass wall will not divide us anymore
By Lorraine Stark
Image via Unsplash @anshu18
By Lorraine Stark
Image via Unsplash
Childhood Sweethearts
I remember in a red and pink box
tiny Valentine candies shaped in
hearts.
They came in shades of yellow,
pink and lavender too, each one had a
different message printed on its top
perfectly written for you.
The excitement would build til
it was Valentine's Day at last and
in school that morning hidden inside
your desk the anticipation would
build and you couldn't wait to pass
to the love of your life then, your
sentiments and when he smiled
in return you knew you'd love him
forever because that box of sweet
hearts could never be wrong when
you were young.
By Lorraine Stark
Alone
my heart broken
walking side by side with
the invisible poverty of
my soul it suddenly started to
rain and I knew that very moment
my life had come back sweetened
from angels tears
By Lorraine Stark
I
If a picture speaks a thousand words, David Johnson, director of Matthews-based nonprofit Silent Images, has a lot to say.
As a graduate of UNC Chapel Hill, David spent many years teaching and coaching tennis. Through travel he found his passion for capturing stories through photography. In 2006, on his first major assignment in Darfur, Sudan, David realized his ability to tell the stories of those who cannot speak for themselves: those impacted by genocide. As David explains, “It was out of this conviction that I founded Silent Images and wrote and published Voices of Sudan in 2007 and Voice of Beauty in 2009.” Silent Images is now a nonprofit with a full team of photographers and filmmakers who provide visual storytelling to other charities.
David not only lives in downtown Matthews but as director for Silent Images, he also works there. On any given day you’ll see him zipping around town on his bike or outside spending time with his wife and daughters. Work and family blend seamlessly through proximity.
Whether behind the camera or guiding his staff, David continues to empower stories to be told.
Photos courtesy of David Johnson
End of the day
Leaving the park
Little girl sees a
Frog on a lily pad
Mommy if I kiss
Him will he turn
Into a prince just
Like the story you
Read to me
My pretty little
One if that was
True, I’d kiss him
Myself
By Lorraine Stark
Image via Unsplash
Choreographed--Italian Octave
Life is so much like the steps of ballet
one minute you’re flying above cloud nine;
or alone you'll sit and wait for a sign
hoping that it shows you a bright new way
So you pick yourself up, balance the sway;
decide everything's going to be fine
from now on you follow no crooked line
and dance to your own tune without delay
By Lorraine Stark
Cathedral
Without stained glass
Blue skies white clouds
Glorious sunsets
Between a canopy of
Pine trees arching
Toward the sky and
Heavens where no
Walls or windows
Divide this peace
When I looked up
This site so beautiful
A cathedral untouched
By man and graced by
God heard my prayers
Echo in the wind
By Lorraine Stark
Goodnight my friends
Sleep well tonight
For tomorrow
We write again
About yesterday
Perhaps
Then yesterday we
Will document our
Words and file them
Into the lagoons of
The past
For today is the
Tomorrow that we
Yearned for yesterday
And the future lies ahead
Waiting for our ink
Upon its’ paper
Presenting us with yet
Another chance
As we add our thoughts
And become a duet
With the pendulum
That meters time
Sweet dreams, sleep well
At dawn we meet
To begin the
Journey again
By Lorraine Stark
