(another autism poem)



Autism represented by a jigsaw puzzle

Because we’re difficult to figure out

But I say we’re kaleidoscopes

While Neurotypicals are like a telescope

Seeing the acceptable reality

Many of us Neurodiverse

See patterns of light and darkness

Mirrored in endless combinations

The Autism Spectrum

Like the Color Spectrum

Diverse, yet part of the Universe


So me, I’m in the middle

Not like the Rain Man

Caught in a world of apartness

Not like Temple Grandin or Elon Musk

Geniuses in their chosen fields

Just regular me

Able to see who I am

Yet must confess

Like the Rain Man

And maybe Musk and Grandin

I share the loneliness


Familiar with Sabian Symbols?

Autism, for some of us, is like

Aries 7:

“One who is successfully

Expressing herself

In two realms

At once”

Of course,

Like the kaleidoscope,

A flick of the wrist

Changes the broken pieces of

Colorful glass

And a new reality is born

A Sacred Geometry

Of angles, circles, lines

Reflected in the mirror

Showing the signs

Of what can be

Or sadly

What cannot



Derived from the

Greek words


“Beautiful form to view”

And so true…


© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Kaleidoscope public domain free image


We were trees together

Growing face-to-face

Leaves delicately entwining

Like earthy bridal lace…

Below the mammals scurried

Carving out their frantic trails

While we stood patiently

As they tripped over holy grails

We see their futility

Though they bravely do not quail

They have the Earth to roam

But reality is so frail

We bow to none but the wind

Safe in our sacred space

And we trees would never trade

Rootlessness for love’s embrace…


© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Live Oaks Entwining


Wind, rain, trees

Bending to earth

No sun, but not hiding

Like fire sign me

No, just giving the

Other three elements

Their stage

And on cue,

Sky cracked and you

Entered my world finally

While my lost warrior

Wandering aimlessly

Through my mind

Found herself

And fear disappeared

I stood in the flood

And to you said

Enter stage left

And you did…


© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  After the Storm


Writing poetry, for me

Is like recording in a diary

But often, real art

Is done accidentally

On New Year’s Day

Under a tree


Plucked a yellow

Flowery weed

And handed it to me

With a flourish

Wanted a picture

Of the brightness

So fumbled with the

Phone camera

And Bandit

That 5-pound genie

Sitting on my knee

Turned to gaze into my eyes

And I snapped a piece of art…


© 2022 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Bandit & flowers


The Wheel of the Year

Is a minute away

From Midnight

As the last Solar event

Is swept out today

The Wheel of Time

Suadarshan Chakra

Is about to repeat

The same cycle

But can we make it

Uniquely our own?

The Wheel of Life

Echoes the 7 chakras

And we try to balance

Protection, Emotion

Power, Health

Communication, Intuition

Blending the Spiritual

With the Physical and Mental

For all-important harmony

The Wheel of Fortune

Turns and burns

Tilts and slides

Like carnival rides

Settling on what will be

At least, temporarily

The Ouroboros

Serpent swallowing its tail

As it encircles and veils

The daily movements of life

Symbols of Geometria Sacra

Disguised as trees and berns

Seas and ferns

Are there but rarely noticed

Daily, we walk through the Circle

Of Campbell’s Hero’s Journey

We wear pendants without thinking

That the chain around our neck

Is a Circle of Protection

Whether religious, spiritual

Or the latch-key to our home

We may be part of a drumming circle

We may play a circle tambourine

We may lay down cards in a circle

But whatever we do

From birth to death

The movement is a circle

And so, as a new year begins

I wish to all of you

The no beginning, no end

The absolute unity

Of friendship

Of love

Of walking in circles

Protected and healthy

Happy and aware

Celebrating our lives

With care

For ourselves, always

And for those of us living

In the circle called Earth…


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens

IMAGE: Wheels & Circles


I want to tell you about the Sun

The Sun and Crows

Most people think Crows

Are dark and scary

Crows can be scary

But they love the morning Sun

They hunt and feed

Terrorize the little birds

In the morning Sun

Swooping in

Making the Sky black

With outstretched wings

Wings that look magnified

When staring into the Sun

Springsteen said,

Well his mama said,

Never look into the Sun

But I saw no fun

Not that day

Cawing, couldn’t hear Roomie

Shouting at me

Shouting at them

But the Dogs were scared

Went into the house

And me,

Tried to talk to those

Sunshine Crows

Last time Crows did this

Attacked the little

Cardinals, Chickadees, Doves

Roomie had a heart attack that night

Real one


Stents and 4 in the morning worrying

So now thinking

Love the Sun

Love the Crows

But what goes?

What presaging do they do

On Christmas Eve day?


A few years ago

Woodpecker in my hair

Favorite aunt died

Always something

When the birds get

Alfred Hitchcockian

The Sun in a bright blue Sky

The Sun made them crazy

The Sun should be blameless

But I’m better off in hazy

Hazy days, grays the world

That touch of gray

Like the Grateful Dead say

Is so necessary

So, Sun

Yes, you’re the one

But I’m blinded


Sun playing with me?


But stay tuned

For the meaning of Crows

Who want to decompose

My boring but peaceful life

Beware the Sun

Leading me like a compass rose


For me

To ignore the Crows

And stay in the safe shadows…


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE:  Morning Crows


Living in Philly
My night sky
Was the ceiling of
The Fels Planetarium
In the Benjamin Franklin Institute
Slouched in the gray theater seats
Neck comfortably straight
While head tipped upward
I’d get chills when the room darkened
And we school kids would stop talking
And the stars would begin to greet us
Like actors slowly wondering
If the audience would adore them
And when we’d applaud
Because the show was FINALLY beginning
The stars, planets, meteors, comets, moons
And all those performers
Playing their celestial roles
Hidden to city children
Living in cement jungles
With streetlights every 500 feet
All those performers
Would put their hearts into
Brightening the night sky
(although still sunny outside)
And my heart would race
As I drifted in space
Not listening to the lecturer
Because no one could top the stories
I told myself
About the constellations
Talking to me via vibrations
For all those years
I never saw the sky
Time tempestuously passed
And I found myself sitting
With my very young sons
Also stretched and bruised
On the concrete of childhood
Their excitement matched mine
As the room darkened
And then I knew
There must be very few
In this world
Who didn’t long to stride across
The canvas of our universe…

(c) 2018 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)
IMAGE: Fels Planetarium, Ben Franklin Institute (Rittenhouse Astronomical Society) and My Ukulele and Stars



*scroll down for a Janis Joplin YouTube video


Wondering how I will know

As I roll the dough

For Solstice cookies

Shaped like the Sun

In the light of the night’s

Cold Moon

Pouring white grape juice

Into plastic champagne flutes

Stirring Shirataki noodles

Mixed with mayo and

Black pepper, wondering

If we’ll dine together

Wondering if you’ll come

Bright silk flowers

Laced between the strings

Of my battered baritone


Me strumming and singing

So carefree

“Here comes the Sun”

By the Fab Four

Switching to the Doors’

“Waiting for the Sun”

Finally, Janis Joplin’s

“Flower in the Sun”

All this fun

Under the aegis of the

Misnamed Cold Moon

No cold in Florida this night

No cold in my heart

Even though I’m apart

From you

Just another night of déjà vu

But it’s merely the angle of view

Skewed by the Moon

Peering into my window

While it enjoys the glow

Of the Sun…


© 2021 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Baritone ukulele on a moonlit night’   “Flower in the Sun” Janis Joplin