Adriana.K.Maxwell
dive deep into a silent world, water heavy around you, eels gliding around like living ribbons, fish darting like fireflies in your grandma's backyard
Pick a basket of strawberries, kneeling down in wet earth, dew dripping off small leaves, mourning dove crooning on the powerline overhead
Talk fast, she's cold and quick. She speaks the truth like a lie and you're never sure what to believe but she's too fascinating to leave. It's like being in love with a tornado, knowing the storm will come but you can't help but follow.
Wander through the town, no rush, stop at all the little shops I drive by and wonder about, it's time to explore, time to know my town, to start to draw a mental map, a field trip for grown-ups
Wait and have peace in the wait, like seeds breaking pathways for roots before they reach for the sky, like chicks in the egg, curled up and growing, like a child with their ear on their mother's heart, swimming in warmth
Patterns are a dangerous thing, a human trap, often helpful, but sometimes we get stuck in the cycle, following the footprints we made before and wondering why we can never get out.
Jump over the moon, find the Milky Way, follow it to skies of clover, with calm pastures of stars. Sleep covers the field where you are from.
His grandmother said to sing to them, a throat-hum with words they no longer knew but kept as a melody, watching them hover like a cloud around her as she walked through the flowers.
Carve out a place, let the knife curve the wood into a chair, make the fallen giant into a home again; to see it's years in rings of glory, springs and winters we never saw
Sharp and smooth, light glinting, tongue-freezing, and toe-burning, stones we could melt and shape with a fury of blows and the rhythm of a hammer
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