🧨 Static Children

A nod to a mother’s dream and her fierce maternal energy

This poem is inspired by my friend’s dream. She held a tablet, that was like reading and interactive. A choose-your-own-adventure storybook, pulsing with electric prophecy. On it, the words appeared: “Don has pixels of children falling from the sky.” Then she woke up.....

By Steve Baker

In Odessa, the sky glitches. Children fall like binary dust, their laughter compressed into static.

“Don has pixels of children,” the tablet reads… a storybook rewriting itself each time she blinks.

Each choice a forked path. Each memory corrupted by hands she cannot see.

She wakes with fire in her chest. A Scorpio mother does not dream idly. She dreams in encrypted truths, in symbols that sting.

She knows when the wind shifts. Knows when the classroom becomes a battleground for souls too young to name their fears.

Ten Commandments nailed to walls… shields or shackles. Prayer time carved into the day… ritual or intrusion.

Books vanish. Screens go dark. Access denied.

She watches the system reshape itself… not to nurture, but to mold.

Her children, once wild and whole, now reduced to fragments, data ghosts, compliant silhouettes in a story not their own.

But she is Scorpio. She shields with silence, with salt, with the knowing glance that sees through veils.

She does not rage. She coils. She waits.

She casts her own circle in the unseen.

And when the sky rains children again, she will catch them… whole, unbroken, hers.

🌊.......

She, Scorpio. Me, Pisces. Two water signs. She protects. I absorb. Like tide and undertow, we hold each other steady in a world that doesn’t always understand our depth.