Wild Greens

Journey with us tonight by Starlight—to the past into childhood, through a hidden door into a fairytale, and up, up, up into the eternal celestial sky— in the December issue of Wild Greens.

Maggie Topel’s digital art for the issue depicts the WG logo ready to stargaze at a campsite under the night sky. “In Their Falling,” a poem by Kersten Christianson, plays with the phrase “the wandering star.”

Justin Dodd Mullikin creates a collage for his daughter from his childhood self in “The Stars.” Arvilla Fee’s poem “A Star’s Last Wink” shares the wisdom of the stars from mother to daughter.

Stephanie Buosi imagines a myth of a magpie stealing stars from the night sky in the digital art “The Star Night Thief.” Ben Daggers writes an original fairytale about two statues who come to life under the moon in “Moonstarved.”

The stars and moon illuminate a winter tree in “Lanterns in the Darkness,” in watercolor and white ink pen by Angela Patera. ckSlack’s poem “The Night Sky Leans Close #6” explores the cosmic and cellular connection of two people in love. The dinner table is set with a playful meal of a Milky Way bar in Ivona Mitankina’s digital art “Sweet Milky Way.”

“Earthquake, Pinnacles State Park,” a poem by Jessica Barksdale, reflects on the constancy of the night sky. “Stars Grieve the Shattered Place,” in acrylic, by Judith R. Robinson, contrasts the perfection of celestial skies with the imperfections of life on earth.

“A Star Was (Almost) Born,” a personal essay by Pat Severin, reflects on an opportunity for a musical career that might have been.

“Cork Peep Star Gnome” by Melissa Lomax uses felt and corks to create a holiday buddy.

“Across the Galaxy” by Hayley J. Boyle is our watercolor cover for Starlight and closes the issue with a view of our cosmos.

Ad astra, friends!

-Rebecca

In Their Falling

A Star’s Last Wink

Moonstarved

by Ben Daggers

Lunaraeth was a joyful place, ruled over by a kind-hearted king. The rivers were clear, the harvests were plentiful, and the townsfolk were happy. But what made Lunaraeth special was its magical statues. By day, the statues were merely beautiful works of art, but by night, they would burst into life under the moonlight. The townsfolk would gather at dusk to see onyx fairies flap their wings, limestone knights march back and forth, and granite-hewn heroes flex their muscles. 

Lunaraeth was blessed with every kind of statue imaginable: some giant, others tiny; some fearsome, others kindly; some famous, others forgotten. In a bramble-filled garden at the edge of the kingdom stood one such forgotten statue: an intricately chiseled couple named Crag and Petra, who danced hand-in-hand each night. At dawn’s approach, they returned to stone, awaiting the kiss of moonlight so they could resume their eternal waltz.

The only statue in Lunaraeth that remained stone, day and night, was a giant obsidian tablet at the palace gates, carved with a mysterious message: On a full moon, one man will single-handedly save the realm from evil. The prophecy has been there as long as anyone could remember, and it intrigued and baffled the townsfolk in equal measure.

The night the king died and his son took the throne, the moon swelled full in the sky. The people of Lunaraeth took this as a sign of the prophecy coming true, and though they wondered about the evil from which their realm was being saved, they welcomed the young king with open arms. 

But far from saving the townsfolk from evil, the rapacious, rotten new king plunged them into it. He stuffed his belly with their food and overflowed his palace with their statues. Each new acquisition snuffed out more of the townsfolk’s happiness, tightening the king’s grip over the realm. 

Within a year, the king filled every corner of the palace with stonework maidens, warriors, and mythical beasts. Though unaccustomed to their new surroundings, each night they’d come to life, filling the palace’s cold silence with laughter and joy. The king ordered his guards to board up the palace windows so that moonlight wouldn’t reach the statues, keeping them as stone forever. “None shall smile but me,” he said, sneering at his petrified prisoners.

But the cruel-hearted king was still not satisfied. He searched high and low for more statues to add to his overcrowded collection. One day, while riding in the outskirts of the realm, he spied an overgrown garden. In the center stood a marble-hewn couple, hand-in-hand with affection leaping from their frozen faces. 

A lustful grin wormed its way onto the king’s face as he drank in Petra’s elegant form. “Look what we have here. Another fair maiden for my collection.” His eyes narrowed as he turned to face Crag. “Of course, I’ll have no use for this half.” The king reached into his carriage, pulling out a jewel-encrusted hammer and chisel.

After several violent blows, Crag was sent crashing to the ground, his right hand crudely severed above the wrist. Petra was carted off to the palace, her screams silenced by the daylight.

That night, Crag dragged his battered body toward the palace. Progress was slow, for when he felt the gentle tug of dawn, he was forced to seek shelter at the side of the road before he turned to stone. At dusk, his limbs awakened again, allowing him to resume his journey. So it went, night after arduous night.

Finally, a weary Crag reached the palace gates. 

“State your business,” said the guard at the entrance.

“I’m here to rescue my other half,” said Crag.

A sympathetic tone crept into the guard’s voice. “I’d love to help you, but there’s nothing I can do. Unless you have an invitation stamped with the royal seal, I cannot let you enter.”

“I’ve travelled so far, suffered so much, and have nothing more to lose. I’ve already lost my happiness, my love, even my hand.” He lifted his stub toward the moonlight.

The guard’s gaze fell upon the familiar tablet. On a full moon, one man will single-handedly save the realm from evil. He looked up at the plump moon, then back at Crag, gasping as the true meaning of the cryptic message dawned on him. “You may enter,” said the guard, opening the gates.

Crag stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the flickering candles, which spluttered light across the great hall. At the far end, a spiral staircase twisted its way toward the top of the palace. Crag could sense Petra’s presence. “I’m coming for you, my love!” he cried, scrambling up the stairs. But with every step, Crag’s pace slowed, as his moonstarved body began to harden.

At the top, he found a room filled with ancient warriors and mythical beasts. Mighty dragons languished in cobwebs, while delicate fairies stood deathly still. In the far corner was Petra, a heartbroken look on her frozen face. Crag lurched onward, but as the last traces of moonlight left his body, sinew and muscle gave way to rock and stone. He ground to a halt a few yards away from Petra. Just then, the king entered, stomping toward Crag with a foul grin.

“I have to hand it to you,” giggled the king, stroking the stump of Crag’s right arm. “You certainly are persistent. Unfortunately, I can’t let a broken, ugly specimen like you ruin my collection.” The king motioned toward the boarded-up window. “I think I’ll treat you to a vertical tour of the palace grounds. By the time you hit the courtyard, you’ll be in a thousand little pieces. The royal sweepers shall be busy tomorrow!” 

He dragged Crag toward the window, as Petra and the other stone companions watched in helpless horror. The king pried off the boards and opened the window, flooding the room with moonlight. 

By the time the king realized his mistake, a swarm of animate stone soldiers, raging warriors, and flying beasts were already descending on him. He stumbled backward, toward the open window, reaching out to Crag in desperation. All he found was air, as he swiped past where Crag’s hand had once been. The king’s pitiful scream was followed by a dull thud, then silence. 

Crag looked at the stirring creatures around him. For so long, the cruel king had kept all of them still. Now, the castle was filled with movement, and it was the king alone who was lifeless.

From that day forth, people came from far and wide to marvel at the fantastical beasts, which filled the royal corridors after dark.

And each night, in a secluded corner of the palace courtyard, Crag and Petra twirled as one, every movement filled with love as they danced under a moonlit sky.

The Night Sky Leans Close #6

Earthquake, Pinnacles State Park

A Star Was (Almost) Born

by Pat Severin

I was sure of my decision, at least I told myself I was. After all, I’d taken a long time to make the decision, so I must’ve been sure, right? Besides, I genuinely loved children, so becoming a teacher seemed the obvious choice. I attended a prestigious Christian Teacher’s college and graduated with a bachelor’s degree. I taught in a Christian school in California for a year and in a couple of little burgs outside the Milwaukee area, but even so, there was that longing I couldn’t shake. I’d always dreamt of becoming a professional singer. 

Well, if I were dreaming, I might as well imagine I’m a singer with a big band, singing the music from the 30s, 40s, and 50s. How’s that for a dream? But let’s be real, Patty. Big bands are a thing of the past. Why allow yourself this ridiculous dream? But isn’t that the way it is with dreams? We dream of how we wish things would be, not how they are, or even the likelihood of them actually coming true? 

That’s the very definition of a dream.

Occasionally, I’d sing in a local piano bar if the man at the piano asked me to, and that served as my singer “fix” for a little while. What’s wrong with that? I’d asked myself. Why nothing…or so I thought until I was offered a gig on weekends singing at Milwaukee’s downtown Holiday Inn Lounge. It would only be for the summer months when I’d be off the clock. Still, not sure what the school board might think, I decided to perform in a blonde wig under an assumed name. But that started to eat at me and seemed dishonest not to formally inquire. So, I asked them, and not surprisingly, my inquiry was met with a resounding, “We will not approve of such a thing!” And that marked the end of the short singing career of the late, great “Heather Hughes.” 

I had to admit it’s what I expected, but it didn’t lessen the sting of disappointment. Did I think singing at the Holiday Inn on weekends would be my ticket to stardom? Of course not, I really wanted to do it, but it was certainly not a sufficient reason to quit my teaching job. Then again, I rationalized, teaching jobs were plentiful, and I could easily get another one for the following fall. Back and forth and back and forth I went. 

“Come on, Patty. How could you even entertain (no pun intended) such a radical idea?” Then I’d answer myself with, “But realistically, it’s not like you’re taking a summer job as a criminal. Be honest, Patty. Quitting your teaching job to sing at the Holiday Inn isn’t something a sensible girl would do!” 

I finally stopped talking to myself, deciding that maybe being a sensible girl wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and actually did quit my job. Quite a leap of faith for a sensible girl, but I did it, and I even decided to use my own name! Without question, I was glad I had followed my heart. That gig proved to be an opportunity to gain more confidence, develop skills, and become a better singer and performer. I never regretted my decision—knowing that only if I hadn’t made it, I’d regret it.

In addition to what I gained in skill, I met an older guy whose performing name was Harry Kaye. I’d heard of him enough to know that Harry Kaye and his orchestra were a pretty big deal in the Milwaukee area. He was well-known for playing the big band music of the 30s, 40s, and 50s! After seeing me perform that evening, Harry confessed he was very impressed with me. He told me he was looking for a female singer to perform with his band and offered me the gig if I wanted it. I was speechless (which hardly ever happened), and had to ask myself, “Was this really happening or am I imagining it?” However, as thrilled as I was with his offer, I couldn’t give Harry a quick answer. I had two children and a husband to consider. I needed to find out more in order to make my decision, but my head was spinning at the prospect! 

Harry and I got together the next day, hashed out all the details, and I, of course, discussed it with my husband. Because he knew that this was my dream, he left the final decision up to me but agreed that it seemed like a good bet. A few days later, I took publicity pictures with Harry and his orchestra. My dream of becoming a singer with a big band was well on its way. This was definitely a “pinch me” moment! I could hardly catch my breath. My mind started racing with everything I needed to do, like put together a wardrobe, develop a song list to submit to Harry with the keys I sang them in, make arrangements on my end with Harry’s itinerary…but then, as quickly as it came together, my dream fell apart! 

True to form with life and dreams, just when everything is falling into place, “life gets in the way.” Out of the blue, my husband lost his job at a local hospital because his new boss decided to bring on his own people from his former hospital. We were in a panic! My husband was scrambling, I was scrambling, and it quickly became clear that there was nothing in his field in our area. Fortunately, he was soon offered an even better position with exceptional pay and generous benefits at a great hospital. The only problem was…it happened to be in another city. 

It probably goes without saying, but I was totally devastated! I called Harry as soon as I knew a move was inevitable, we said our regretful goodbyes, and with that, my dream ended as quickly as it began. Although my path to stardom had encountered a giant roadblock, I’ll always cherish the memory of how close I came to realizing it. I never got another gig singing with a big band again, but my ability to sing and perform opened many doors in my new community. Not only did it provide many performing opportunities, but it also led to directing opportunities for children’s musicals and a Christmas musical with 300 people, aged 5 to 75!

None of us has a crystal ball that can tell us what the future holds, but I can honestly say I have no regrets about how things turned out. Not many almost-born stars can say that!