Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Leaves and blossoms, branches and baubles, forms of deities who lived amidst nature took hold, and Lena lifted her head in reverential awe, watching as the world pieced itself together. “Thank you,” she whispered before anything even occurred – grateful for the herald’s presence alone.
And then whirlwinds of herbs attached and twined, woven back into threads of resin and bark, a staff softened by roots and tenacity, a process of rejuvenation and mending, a promise of benediction that the Caretaker would strive to serve once more. “I will,” she hummed in response – her hand eventually going toward the staff, allowing the warmth of it to spread through her fingers. “Thank you again, for the opportunity.” And she bowed her head, before striding away, ready to assist and help all the more.
{FIN <3}
And then whirlwinds of herbs attached and twined, woven back into threads of resin and bark, a staff softened by roots and tenacity, a process of rejuvenation and mending, a promise of benediction that the Caretaker would strive to serve once more. “I will,” she hummed in response – her hand eventually going toward the staff, allowing the warmth of it to spread through her fingers. “Thank you again, for the opportunity.” And she bowed her head, before striding away, ready to assist and help all the more.
{FIN <3}
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
