Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Winding around a familiar corner, the youth tilted her head, listening. How and why the creatures came into being had never been an inquiry Lena mustered – most of the time the animals showed up within enclosures, needing to be mended and healed, and she applied the best of her knowledge to the task at hand. Some required finagling, and others simple kindness, generosity, and tender, loving care, but she’d never questioned their existence.
“That is probably something to ask Rae,” she uttered with a faint smile, not willing to give broad assumptions or lead the child astray with falsehoods. The Caretaker could imagine either situation – and perhaps both were utilized – some brought into the world by figments of imagination and creation, and others permitted to evolve, adapt, from eggs and thresholds.
“That is probably something to ask Rae,” she uttered with a faint smile, not willing to give broad assumptions or lead the child astray with falsehoods. The Caretaker could imagine either situation – and perhaps both were utilized – some brought into the world by figments of imagination and creation, and others permitted to evolve, adapt, from eggs and thresholds.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
