Wolfy Chai

Looking around you everywhere, 

only dust, grays, and browns ever appear. 

Cold is the air. 

Quiet are the stares…

No one who actually sees. 

Only people who are thieves. 

Stealing the remainder of your leaves. 

Stealing what makes your heart free to be.

But here comes night—the stars shining, bright.

Yet they still witness your existence even when your face fades from existence. 

How lucky are you then,

To have a star come be your friend. 

A friend who holds you tight,

until you make it through each night.

An ember that keeps your fire burning,

even while you’re deeply hurting. 

So why do stars choose to come down to keep you always safe and sound? 

Angels with the biggest hearts, 

share their glimmer and shimmer, unrestrained, natural givers.

Me not knowing why they care,

Care so deeply about little me down there?

What did I do, that made me come into view?

Chosen me of all people from one of the trillions of stars.

Stars that have painted the sky long before I had come along.

Marking me as special somehow.

Treasuring me, calling out to me, celebrating me.

As if my eyes contained the last drops of the ocean; my lips, the first kiss of creation; my breath, the oxygen for your devotion. 

The star replied, with a wide smile: I came here to love you dear.