in the face of a daffodil

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

The answer wasn’t what she’d been hoping for – but there would be other time, other ventures. She hid her disappointment well, tucking it away for another moment. Maybe Frey was busy. Maybe Lena hadn’t been doing enough. Maybe luck hadn’t prevailed at this hour. Nevertheless, eyes hastened over the pale figure that roamed, regardless of any divinity or supplication.

Smiling, she had to laugh as the cat nestled and purred nearby, snagging at the offering. Hello there, the Caretaker extended through Attuned measures, wondering if this was some adventurous spirit, or merely a feline who’d taken to wandering into the midst of the shrine and Celestine.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all