Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
You Are Everything Wonderful – A Poem
Tomorrow is the 4 year Anniversary of when I first met my Husband. Our first wedding anniversary is on the 15th of April, but I didn’t want to let the day that I met him pass by with telling him how much he means to me.
You’ve given me the world and you have re-written my life. I am so thankful for you. I love you, Michael, beyond what words can say.
You are a wonder to me.
I look at the life
that we have built together
and it is like something out of
my dreams somehow made real.
You are joy to me.
Everything that is good in the world
can be summed up in your touch
or the sound of your voice
as you say my name.
You are timeless to me.
I’m amazed that we have
somehow mastered the art of time travel.
How else to explain that
each day with you feels like minutes,
every month with you feels like mere hours,
and that four years has passed by
in the space and time of a heartbeat?
Together, we are but a symphony
that has just begun to play,
a story at the beginning of a new chapter.
You are everything wonderful
and because of you,
I believe in Magic.
The Butterfly Mirror – A Short Story
All around him there was the sound of flutes. The music made him think of the movement of butterflies caught in the wind.
A woman came towards him, seeming to float rather than walk. She had light brown hair that framed her face in a riot of curls. “I’m Susan. Welcome to Silver Springs, Alexander.” She had large brown eyes and Alexander could see himself in them. “What do you desire?”
It was the same question that was on their advertisement and had been what had caught his attention. He looked at it for a while thinking, what did he desire? He wanted the things that others wanted: more money, a bigger house, a better car; but what did he really want? That’s what the billboard seemed to be asking him.
There was one thing he wanted above all others. He was afraid to utter it aloud however. He’d never even said it out loud to himself. “I’m sorry.” Alexander said thickly, swallowing.
Susan looked at him with those dark brown eyes. “It’s all right Alexander. You have nothing to be afraid of. But if you don’t tell me, there’s not much I can do.”
Letting out a sigh, he closed his eyes and relaxed. He let his breath out and said that which he had kept secret within the dark halls of his mind. “I want love.” He whispered fiercely. A tear slid down his face and he did nothing to brush it away.
“There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” He heard a bottle being opened and the scent of lavender filled the air. “Why was that so hard to say?”
Alexander opened his eyes. “Because I’ve spent my life keeping everyone away.” He let out a little chuckle and could have sworn he felt Susan smile softly. “Why would I keep everyone away if I want love?”
“Human’s are strange beings. It’s often that way.” Susan said softly. “You often run away from what you want most.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Walk with me.”
She took his left elbow and they walked through a store that was a sea of colour. As they kept walking, he wondered how big the store was. It was like they could go on walking forever. Eventually they stopped. They were inside of a room that was draped with white fabric.
“At Silver Springs we do what is called Soul Therapy. We align your body with your spirit so that you can be who you need to be to obtain what you desire.”
Alexander was taken aback. “You mean like plastic surgery?”
Susan let out a soft laugh that reminded Alexander of the flute music he had heard when he had first entered. “No, nothing like that. We merely align your soul with the rest of you. When a child is born, there is soul inside of them. Just like your body grows, so does that soul, like a small seed filled with light. Like a tree, it can sometimes grow in odd shapes. We find a way to make sure your soul fills all of you, that’s all.”
Moving closer to him, she held out her arm. “Grab hold, Alexander. We’re going to go on a journey.”
“What do you mean? What kind of journey?”
She tapped a finger on his forehead. “A journey in here. It won’t take very long, but I hope it will show us what we want to know. We’re just going to take a quick hop back to your past.”
He looked at her arm with some trepidation. She took his hands in her own and warmth sped through Alexander’s body at her touch. “Trust me.”
Despite his fear, he thought that trusting Susan was easier than living as he was, wanting so much that it hurt. He nodded.
“Excellent. Now, can you close your eyes? I want you to count to ten and then open them. I’ll hold tight to you, okay?”
Nodding, Alexander closed his eyes and began counting. The smell of lavender became stronger and he heard the sound of flutes again. Calmness soothed him, and he opened his eyes…
*
…to be looking at himself.
Or rather, looking into a mirror. He watched as a younger version of himself approached a boy he liked. Alexander still remembered the way the boy’s hair had caught the light, looking like spun gold. He had been in his early teens then, unsure about the world and his place in it.
He watched as his young self tried to take hold of the boy’s hand, his mouth open to profess his love, only to have it brushed away. The other boy had turned on him, yelling at him and saying horrible things. Alexander couldn’t hear them through the mirror, but he still remembered them: unnatural, abomination, freak. All the while, the other boy cried, as if he had been afraid of something within himself.
Beside him, Susan squeezed his hand. “You’ve been carrying this around inside you all this time. No wonder you are so keen to keep everyone away, Alexander.”
Reaching out to touch the mirror, Alexander was surprised to find his hand slipping through the veil of glass. He let out a gasp and pulled his hand back, leaving ripples in the glass like water. His younger self looked back at him. They studied each other for a moment until the vision changed.
Alexander was slightly older and in a relationship. His stuff had been packed into boxes and bags. He was clearly leaving. The man he was with was crying. The vision changed again, and he was older still and with another man. They were yelling and then this Alexander turned and left as well.
Tears were sliding down his face. “I wanted to keep them all away.”
Susan nodded. “So, they can’t hurt you, so you can’t be hurt again.” She gave his hand another squeeze. “I know, dear one, I know.”
“How are we seeing this?” Alexander asked
Susan smiled at him. “Because I can see inside of you, but only when I touch you.” She took her hand away from his and the image faded until nothing was there. “See?”
“So, what happens now? How do I let love in now that I’m terrified of being alone?”
“Now? You can let go. I want you to reach inside yourself until you find that memory. The one where you were hurt so badly as a child. I want you to grab hold of it and pull if out of you so that you can let it go.”
“I’m willing to do anything.” Alexander said. “Just tell me what I need to do.”
Susan smiled at him and took his hands again. The mirror flickered on again, showing the scenes that he had watched before. It stopped on the first one, the one of him as a young kid and the first boy he had ever loved.
“I want you to close your eyes and reach inside yourself. I want you to find that memory and grab it and not let go. Can you do that for me?”
Alexander didn’t hesitate. He closed his eyes. As he did so, the scent of lavender filled the air once again. He heard the fluttering of butterflies. He opened his eyes within himself and could see his memories, flittering around his head. There were pictures drawn in black ink on their wings.
He tried reaching for one of them, but they were too quick for him. His feet seemed rooted to the spot, so he could not jump to reach them. Alexander stood there, watching them fly above him. How was he to do this? Susan didn’t give him any instructions other than to catch his memories?
Alexander watched them flying above him, he saw one that was glowing slightly, shining brighter than the rest of the others. Looking closely, he saw a broken heart drawn on the butterfly’s wings in thick black lines.
As he watched them, a thought occurred to him. What had Susan said? “I want you to grab hold of it and pull if out of you so that you can let it go.”
What if he didn’t grab it? What if he asked the memory instead?
He held out his hands, bringing them together so that his palms and fingers formed a cup. Keeping his eye on the butterfly with the broken heart upon its wings, Alexander spoke softly. “Please.” He said. “Please, I want to let you go. I’ve held on to you too long when I should have let you fly away. Won’t you come with me so that we can be free?”
The butterfly came towards the sound of his voice, almost as if it were falling slowly through the air. When it landed on his hand, a thrum of energy ran through his body. “Thank you.” He said. Alexander gently closed his hands together. “Thank you,” He said again.
Closing his eyes, he heard the flute music again and when he opened them, he was back in that expanse of white, back within Silver Springs. Susan was looking at him, smiling that wide and beautiful smile. In front of them was the mirror and it shone like silver water.
“Did you get it? Did you get the butterfly?” She asked.
Alexander nodded and held up his closed hands.
“Then let the memory go, Alexander. Let it fly.”
When Alexander opened his hands, however, there was nothing there. He heard the sound of butterfly wings and turned towards it. The sound was coming from the mirror. Alexander watched as hundreds of butterflies, the memories of every negative thing that had shaped him, flew out of the mirror.
Watching them fly towards the white ceiling that looked like clouds, Alexander felt a warmth inside his chest. He watched the last of the butterflies disappear and looked toward Susan. “What’s happening?”
She came towards him and placed a hand on where his heart lay. “Now, you’ve planted a seed. It’s time to let it grow again so you can love once more.”
As he was leaving the store, he saw a tray of pins. One of them caught his eye: a small, blue butterfly. He took it out of the tray and held it, watching as light seemed to shine from it.
He turned back to look at Susan, to ask her how much the butterfly was…and she was not there. Neither was Silver Springs. Instead, he was standing outside what looked like an abandoned mall with only a butterfly pin and a seed of light in his heart.
Alexander turned away from the mall and walked back towards where he had come from, knowing that these were the steps in a new part of his life.
With each step, that seed of light started to grow…
The Scent of Joy – A Short Story
I had been climbing for what seemed like days.
The mountain had seemed small at first, but it grew continually larger with each step I took along its steep terrain. It took me days to reach the top of the mountain, but it felt like it had taken me years. The climb had been gruelling and difficult, but now I was here, at the top of the mountain. I looked down at the world around me.
It seemed impossibly large, as if it could go on forever. That thought frightened me. I thought of how much further I had to go, of the downward climb that I had to make, and I was filled with a fear that took all the strength from my body. I slumped against a tree that was close by and smelled the scent of pine.
I closed my eyes and prayed. I don’t know who I prayed to, only that it was a reverent prayer, one filled with promises that I didn’t know if I could keep. After the immense climb, I wanted my journey to be over.
I heard someone nearby clear their throat. I opened my eyes and looked to where I had heard the sound. I saw a woman. She had bright red and gold hair that framed her face and brilliant brown eyes that were speckled through with more gold. She beckons me over with a cheerful wave of her hand.
I nodded to show that I had seen her. I wondered where she had come from. There had been no woman when I had first reached the top of the mountain and no forest either, yet there were trees that spread around her and beyond her.
When I approached her, the very air around her seemed to shimmer.
She looked up at me and the first thing I see is her eyes. When the light hits them, they seemed to shimmer like spun gold. I sense incredible warmth coming from her.
“Hiya!” She said. She motions for me to sit down.
When I do, I am entranced by different scents and smells. I am lulled in by lavender and I smell other scents like lemon and peppermint.
I take another look around us and I can make out the outline of trees, stretching high into the clouds. I can see the sunlight is coloured green where it filters itself through the leaves. I can see plains in the distance filled with flowers that lend more scentsations: rose and jasmine and neroli.
“I had no idea there was a forest at the top of this mountain.”
She lets out a laugh that’s like music. “Well of course you didn’t. You had to climb to the top first, didn’t you? If you could see the forest from down below, would that have brought you joy? Or would you have not climbed this mountain?”
“I probably wouldn’t have climbed it at all.” I said.
“Exactly. Life is like that sometimes. We take on that which is hard to do, but the reward at the end of it all if so much more than we thought possible. Don’t you agree?”
I nodded my head noncommittedly. I looked away for a moment, drawn by the breeze moving the flowers that surrounded us. I was sure they had not been there before. Then I looked back at the woman, she was handing me a cup of tea. It smelled of cinnamon, cloves and oranges. I closed my eyes and breathed it in.
“What is your name?” I asked her.
She took a moment to think of an answer, taking time to take a sip of her tea. “I am called many things. For today, you can call me Rachael.”
“Do you have more than one name?” I asked her.
“Doesn’t everyone?”
My eyes were drawn upward to one of the trees. I saw birds with red feathers. A flock of cardinals were sitting in the branches where there had been none before. They were chirping and singing to us. The melody was very soft and lilting.
“Why does this land keep changing? There was not supposed to be a forest here, nor grass or flowers or birds…” I said.
“I don’t know, Angel.” Rachael gave me a kind smile. “Who knows why? But let’s enjoy it while we’re here. I don’t often get to just sit and relax, so this is lovely!”
Rachael smiled at me again and I felt only felt joy and warmth from her. A soft wind blew around us and citrus notes filled the air, lemon again with orange and grapefruit. It made me feel as if I was smelling sunshine.
“So why are we here?” I asked her.
“Well, does there need to be a reason?” She shrugged. “Why did you climb the mountain?”
I shrugged. “Because I had to. It was on my path where I needed to go. I didn’t know there would be a mountain in the middle of my path but I had to climb it.”
“Did you really have to? Or was there another way you could have taken?”
I thought about it. “I could have just gone around the mountain, but then I would not be able to see all of this.” I turned and motioned to the world far below me. “I would not have been able to see the world in this way.”
She put down her tea cup and joined her hand together. “You see? You did not know the reason when you started climbing, but you learned something about yourself. Life is often like that, teaching us lessons when we least expect it.”
I put down my own cup and watched as grass sprouted where our tea cups had been. From these two spouts of grass, more grass grew and soon, the whole forest floor was covered in an emerald green blanket. It was soft and cool as I ran my hands through the blades of grass.
“I don’t know how to move forward.” I said. “I’m afraid of climbing higher.”
Rachael gave me a sage look. “Oh, I don’t sense fear in you. Only immense courage and perseverance.”
I shook my head. “Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it.”
Rachael held out a hand and I took it. A plume of warmth ran up my arm at her touch. “Sometimes, life gets in the way of the good stuff. In every challenge, there is wisdom if we choose to see it.”
“What’s the wisdom in climbing to the top of a mountain?” I asked. “The climb nearly killed me. It took everything from me.”
“Well yes, but you did climb it. You didn’t give up or lose faith in yourself! And now you can look back at everything you’ve accomplished. Isn’t that the most wonderful thing ever?”
I sat there in the midst of a forest that shouldn’t be, talking to a woman that should not be here and reflected on what she said. If I had not climbed the mountain, I would not be experiencing this moment of joy and beauty. If I hadn’t climbed the mountain, I would not be seeing the world in a different way.
I gave her hand a squeeze. “Thank you.” I heard music in the distance and something about it called to me. “What’s over there?” I asked, making a vague gesture beyond the forest.
Rachael gave me a kind look and I was moved by how beautiful she was. “I don’t know. But, much like the mountain you’ve climbed, won’t it be an adventure to find out?”
I nodded.
“You have to find the joy in your life. What do you smell when you think of happiness? What does your idea of joy smell like? What does it sound like to you?”
I didn’t have to think about it. “I smell the scent of ink and paper. I can hear the sound of a pen dancing across the paper. That is joy to me.”
“Then go out into the world and find something to write about, won’t you?” She stood and helped me to my feet. “If that’s your joy, you have to share it with the world. Don’t keep those scents, those words, bottled up. You have to let them out to dance across the page.”
She walked with me to the edge of the forest. I walked beside her and when I broke through the trees, I was expecting to see the mountain that I had to climb down, the rocky terrain that I would have to scale to continue on my path forwards.
What I saw instead took my breath away. Instead of a rocky terrain, there were wide open fields of grass, dotted with trees and more flowers. Here was where the scent of jasmine, neroli and roses had come from. The meadow was a riot of colour.
I turned to Rachael, one of my eyebrows raised in a question I didn’t have the words to ask.
Rachael only smiled. “Sometimes the path forward is not the one we envision for ourselves, but the one that we find instead. Would you agree?”
I nodded.
“Good. Now, get going. Those stories won’t write themselves and you have so much more to see.” She touched a hand to my face and I was filled with warmth from the light of her.
I walked on a little ways, but looked back to where Rachael had been.
There was only a flower, a tall rose, standing in the sunshine. I turned away and, as I walked forwards, I wondered if the scent of roses had come from her.
Monster for Love – A Poem
When I awoke,
my body felt
as if it had been broken
and sewn back together,
only the pieces of my body
weren’t all mine.
My body was re-created,
three pieces came together
to make a whole.
They whispered their names,
these smoky others,
and I could hear them speaking
inside of me.
When I stood,
I had no control
over my body.
I had no concept
of movement
but I had an idea
of what it was supposed to be.
I stumbled around,
attempting to find my way
through the shadows,
trying to regain some control.
I shuffled out into the light,
and was blinded by it,
as if there were needles or knives
within the sunshine.
As I looked away from the sun,
I beheld a rose,
its petals soft and as red as blood.
I tore it from the ground,
for I had never seen anything
quite as beautiful.
I wanted it with me,
to remind me of what beauty was.
My blood flowed from where
the thorns had dug
into my skin, making the petals
redder, more vibrant,
as if they were made of rubies.
I left a trail of blood
wherever I walked.
I struggled onward,
each step painful
and filled with glass,
each step precarious,
as if I were walking
on a tightrope.
My body was a patchwork quilt,
sewn together like a ragdoll.
It tried to fight me
with every movement,
ever single step,
but still I kept going.
I had begun to draw crowds of people.
They looked at me with pity:
“Oh, poor dear. Are you all alone? Well, who would want you?”
They looked at me with hate:
“Stay the fuck home if you want to drink or get high.”
They looked at me with curiosity:
“Are there others like you? Do you live in a commune?”
They looked at me with derision:
“You’re so pathetic. Are you sure you’re really sick?”
I would try to speak to them,
to emote with words,
but my borrowed tongue
merely mumbled and tripped
as I tried to shape the syllables
that I used to know.
Still I walked on,
climbing the flat mountain
that the world had become.
I knew no other way.
Eventually,
I saw a light in the distance.
As I moved towards it,
my steps became surer.
As I walked on,
the flat mountain became more manageable
and I felt less and less like I was made of puzzle pieces
held together by thread.
The pieces had fused together
to form a whole.
When I finally came upon the reason for that light,
I could only stop and stare.
It was a man of breathtaking beauty.
His inner spirit shone
and this was the light that I saw.
When he looked at me,
I didn’t feel like a monster.
When he looked at me,
I felt beautiful
and the scars that ran all over my body
ceased to matter.
When he looked at me,
I knew that he really saw who I was.
I did the only thing I could do:
I held out my rose,
and my heart to him.
Inside of me,
my own light began grow,
starting as a seed
that would soon fill me with brightness.
He moved towards me and
I was unafraid.
I was ready for love.
When we kissed
and he took me into his arms,
the ground below us began
to rumble softly,
as if the earth itself was humming.
Roses bloomed around us and
the sky above us was filled
with stars.
The Bright Light of Joy – A Poem
When she looked
at me, all
I saw were
eyes that were
filled with pity.
The tears fell
from her eyes
and slid along
her cheeks, looking
like jewels made
from her sadness.
She passed the
jewels to me,
putting her tears
into my cupped
hands. I looked
at them, shining
so brightly yet
so heavy with
despair. I looked
back at her
and saw no understanding
of what I
endured, only sadness.
I said:
“I do not have to take on your emotions.”
I let the
jewels fall from
my hands and
watched as they
floated in the
air like bubbles
filled with rainbows.
“I do not have to own your sadness.”
I said.
I watched as
the jewels began
to open in
the air, as
if they were
flowers or little
bits of joy.
Soon, the room
was filled not
with the luminosity
of tears, but
instead the bright
light of joy.
Buy Little Yellow Magnet from Amazon and Kobo!
Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 