On gettin you back from the place where you were not meant to go. Guiding you with both arms wide open is my work. Both eyes wide open for a hypocrite, too. Grandmother Wisdom work, is this.
You just keep starin outa that window, hear? An don’t you heed that teacher over there. It’s all repetition, darlin. Time to make fresh tracks off the asphalt, off the concrete, off the how-to. Into the older, life-affirming ways. Weavin an plantin’= seeds an raftin’to the source of the river. An knowin what’s gonna live when you are dead. When we are dead.
Isn’t anybody can tell me not to drop my g’s anymore. They were aaall older’n me. All to dust. Their silly textbooks didn’t feed ’em, now did they? No point havin’ a brain less you think for yourself.
Oh, an remember. The one in yer gut’s cleverer by far, than the one in yer head.