The Closet Oracle and the Bananas’ Spell©️ by Felina Silver (copyright 2025)

What are you doing this evening?

This morning,
the closet became a portal.
I opened its door and it sighed,
spilling out a prophecy of socks and sweaters,
a landslide of sleeves,
a blizzard of scarves that tangled around my feet
like mischievous sprites.

She had been here—
my wild star-daughter—
summoning what she needed,
turning shelves into shooting stars,
and shoes into secret planets.
The oracle had spoken:
find the thing, leave the rest to chaos.

So I knelt before the avalanche
like a pilgrim before a shrine.
Each shirt I folded felt like a charm,
each pair of pants a spell of grounding,
each hanger a wand to call back order.
By the time I finished,
the closet was no longer a dragon’s den
but a library of dreams,
breathing quietly,
waiting for her next quest.

Then, to seal the day’s enchantment,
I entered the kitchen—
my other temple—
and called forth sweetness.
Butter and sugar danced together
like giddy moon-spirits,
flour sifted down like first snow,
eggs spilled golden suns into the bowl.

Bananas, those stubborn sages,
gave up their wisdom when pressed,
turning to golden paste that smelled
of sunlit afternoons and mischief.
The oven hummed like a patient guardian
while the spell rose—
dessert taking shape like a dream
warming itself for her arrival.

When she steps through the door,
the air will taste of magic and welcome.
She will find a closet ready
for the next constellation she scatters,
and a kitchen humming with offerings.
And I will smile,
a little weary,
a little spellbound,
grateful that love always leaves me
both disheveled and enchanted.