Adriana.K.Maxwell
Mix of languages, Igorot, Ilocano, Can-eo, Saclit, Talubin, Fontok, Tagalog, and English all in one conversation. I only got to figuring out the topic of the sermon
Walk down the trail, listening to the birds and the creaking of branches against each other, cold sky today, brown leaf litter from even two years ago, peeking under leaves idly, dreaming of morels
Will Scarlet sits in Sherwood trees, making music for the feasts that rich men pay for stolen meat, in a castle of twig and sky
Float away on a big river, bobbing against waterlilies and disturbing mosquitoes, little minnows stopping to see if there is anything to nibble, pike low in the dark, waiting
Warmth of being inside with the thunder and rain outside, flashes of lightening, curled up on the carpet in the dark, cozy in the clouds
"You've always got something up your sleeve," he said.
"Always," she said, with a teeth-sharp grin, "but I'm not the one with bones in my pocket."
Humble yourself, honor other's respect, not tear down a gift but reflect it back onto the giver, be a window that they can see through
Sail away to shore, rows breaking the waves, dragging yourself home, soul weary, legs still shaking, not used to steadiness under your feet
Steady on, rowing an ash breeze when the wind doesn't strike, just keep going, making it work, pushing through the current
Answers aren't always easy, but the seeking still matters for only by reaching can we get closer to the sky. Because how in so big a world, could we ever know enough?
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