Invisible, It Seems

They say women
over the age of forty

are invisible, socially

speaking, and I find this

to be true.  I stand

in front of automated

faucets that refuse

to see me while I wait,

water flowing

for everyone else

but me.  At home,

I have these robots

that work for me.

They turn on my lights,

vacuum my floors, 

and remind me where 

I need to be.  I installed

them and trained them

and made them my own

so they obey my commands.

I am useful to them

because I have made them

useful to me.

There's no kindness

in standing, hands out,

desperate, with no water

in response to my pleas.

Defiantly, I stand here.

Invisible, it seems.

2023

Virtual Tip Jar: Venmo @sarahwolfstar

The Caretaker

 When he looked at her, all he saw were particles of light.  Sometimes she was green and sometimes she glowed purple and sometimes she was a rainbow in human form.  Those are her chakras, his supervisor had once explained before drifting away.  

He understood.

He understood her.

He wasn't sure she fully knew he was there, part of her life in this mysterious way that only the telepathy of souls can explain.  Sometimes, though, she'd radiate her emotions in his direction and he'd breathe them in as if they were the very thing that would sustain his life.  

Not that he had a life, not in the same way she did.  She was chosen, after all, for a purpose that was different than his own.  Not better or worse, necessarily, but different.  He'd learned this distinction by listening to human thoughts and seeing how their colors changed the deeper they'd sink into their struggle to understand their earthly existence.

What if there was nothing to understand, though, he wondered.  What if there was nothing but light?

She glowed pink with blush when he thought such things while near her.

Once, he'd hovered just outside her dreams, curious about what her human brain processed while she slept, and he was stunned to see it was a swirl of colors, like spilled oil on the pavement.  The colors, they took the shapes of earthbound things like horses and birds and mountains and caves, but never human.  When she rested, she returned to nature in this way, and he wondered if she ever woke up with the smell of fresh rain filling her senses.  

Mostly, he waited for her to be done with this human form so she could return to him and tell him what it was like, really like, to walk and talk and be the one who contributed to the evolution of her unbound soul.  

Without the restrictions that come with his role as her caretaker and her role as a human, they could melt together and be their highest frequencies, unparalleled equals as as beings are meant to be.  Not like they are now in their hierarchy where she is the adventurer and he is the one who carries her home.  

All he knows of her, anyway, is love.

She walks in human form to teach that love, to be that love, to express that love, no matter what.

He's watched her take this on so many times, so often in combat with others whose colors are encased with shiny, metallic armor that barricade them to sides. Whatever pain or suffering or hardship she faces as this avatar, he sees it shine through the colors she continually emits no matter what -- and he feels it through the emotions she conveys.  It startles him when he knows she's hurting because he has never felt such things himself.  He's only seen the colors and learned to decipher what they mean.  

Sometimes when he sees her vibrations are especially low, he'll whisper telepathically, shh, darling, it will be ok, and he'll wait to see her dull spectrum brighten once more.  

Does she know it's me? he asked his supervisor, who answered with a stillness that taught him it didn't matter either way.

It was his job to watch over her, nothing more.  Watch and wait and sometimes whisper -- while she, that radical burst of light, conveyed the secrets of love to any human form who drew near.

2023

Virtual Tip Jar: Venmo @sarahwolfstar

My Starling

A pretend story

played out on my screen

about a man and a woman

in recovery from grief.

In it, they needed different

methods to face themselves

before they could truly

face each other.  

But when they did,

they did.

I watched from my perch

while a notice pinged,

a sign from the cosmos

that when you're near me,

my mere presence makes you

dig deep into who you are.

Alive and energized and 

never bored when we're together,

that's what is written

by powers bigger than you

or me alone.

But here's the trick:

you can't be

in control.

Nor can I of you.

I thought how odd

to see this message pop

out of hiding while a starling

dive-bombs a famous actress

on my television. A knowing-

character says that starling pairs

partner forever but a quick

google search reveals infidelity

is likely -- though nothing's matched

as strongly as that first chosen mate.

But I like the romance offered

by the movie, the simple twining

of healing hearts, and I root

for love to win in the end --

2023

Virtual Tip Jar: Venmo @sarahwolfstar

Guided Hypnosis #72

 Where were you last night?

Folded in the cosmos' cobwebs, you moved in a daze through the din.  Everything popped with purple and gold, a party, you think, on your behalf.  Somewhere nearby, you hear laughter and loud cheers, as if happiness had a color.  You, you stood still in one spot and let it all melt over you like the buttery sun.

It's then that a friend you've only just begun to know appears beside you and puts a kind hand on your arm while she tells you, you deserve this.  You blink at her, your mouth matching her smile though it's not clear what you've done until she goes on.  "Your career, the way you think, it's an example for others," she says, stringing more words together even in this brevity than you've ever heard her string together before.

All you can feel is the aroma of kindness.  This place, it cradles you, it lulls you while you sway.

Before you can turn your brain on to think, your grandmother, gone from your earthly plain for over a decade now, bursts into the room and this is when you realize all of it is a dream.  Your grandmother doesn't appear in this realm often but whenever she does, she comes with news and support.  She comes to let you know you are exactly where you are meant to be.  She comes to love you more than life.

This time, she comes baring gifts: floating from a strand in one hand is a silver heart-shaped helium balloon that says something like "Congratulations" in bright red letters, busy stripes making up the backdrop.  In the other hand, she has a pale green envelope with her sophisticated cursive spelling your name across the front.  "Read it later," she tells you. "Now it's time to celebrate."

Whatever else was there turned to stardust and burst.

Awake, all you remember is your friend and your grandmother and the happiness they brought forth within you.  You can't ever recall feeling so loved.  Dancing your way into your day, you play those brief clips over and over so you can remember them well before you have a chance to write them down.  You giddily chirp these glad tidings into a message you send to a friend as you clump this good omen in with the rest.

Your life, anymore, has become a sea of synchronicities that confirm you are one with your golden path.

As if to prove it, another such moment happens at once and you ping your friend's inbox once more.  It just happened again! you say, remembering what it was like to be the child certain she heard sleigh bells on a Christmas Eve long ago.

This life piles magic, you think as your echoed reply to that dastardly question that pings while you wake -- where were you last night?  

As if it mattered.  As if it could be measured.  As if memory served.

You were where you always are: exactly where you're meant to be.

2023

Virtual Tip Jar: Venmo @sarahwolfstar

You Are Welcome Here

I.

My building's front door

bangs open and shut

and I ask out loud, Is it you,

are you here, is it you?

II.

Twice since I've lived here

friends with no connections

to each other spotted the same

spirit lingering in my hallway.

I smile, though, poetically

unafraid to be curious

without asking anyone to leave.

III.

Before I moved in, someone

who knows me well smirked

when she learned of the cemetery

across the street from this place.

Don't bring anyone home with you,

OK? she said.  I smirked back.

Can't make any promises,

I shrugged.

IV.

Years before that, I sat with one

of my dearest at our favorite

breakfast spot and she said,

with immense certainty 

while scrolling through her feed

that there were no witches

nearby.  Not on Instagram,

I said, my gaze floating up

to the warm, blue sky.

V.

I'm not a witch, but my mother

used to dress as one every Halloween,

cloaked in black with a pointy hat

while she silently handed out candy

to terrify the children.  Anymore,

I wear every color under 

the sun and I throw my arms open

to anyone who's also here, like me,

to bask in the lightness of love --

2023

Virtual Tip Jar: Venmo @sarahwolfstar