Fold your wings, my soul,
those wings you had spread wide to soar
to the terrestrial peaks where light is
most ardent: it is for you to simply waith
the descent of the Fire —
supposing it to be willing to take possession of you.
Courage has roots. She sleeps on a futon on the floor and lives close to the ground. Courage looks you straight in the eye. She is not impressed with powertrippers, and she knows first aid. Courage is not afraid to weep, and she is not afraid to pray, even when she is not sure who she is praying to. When Courage walks, it is clear that she has made the journey from loneliness to solitude. The people who told me she is stern were not lying; they just forgot to mention that she is kind.