Rowing Down the Jal-o
The water is silent. Deep. It betrays movement. It hides the strong current that runs underneath the aquamarine surface.
Life sometimes is the water that runs silently. It is a movement; a jibing and tacking of some exiled souls.
Tonight, the angel announces: Be at peace, sojourner. Your boat is approaching a bend. For awhile, your are no longer exiled, rowing alone in the river of life. The dawn is about to break. I got for you a boatman who will journey with you to the next embankment.
While on your own, follow the North Star. She will guide you in the pitch black of the night as you navigate the shoals and the sandbars.
Then on the sixth month of the year, you will be reunited with the boatman of your soul. You shall once again row along with the Katilingban and the boatman will lead you home to your community.
Life sometimes is the water that runs silently. It is a movement; a jibing and tacking of some exiled souls.
Tonight, the angel announces: Be at peace, sojourner. Your boat is approaching a bend. For awhile, your are no longer exiled, rowing alone in the river of life. The dawn is about to break. I got for you a boatman who will journey with you to the next embankment.
While on your own, follow the North Star. She will guide you in the pitch black of the night as you navigate the shoals and the sandbars.
Then on the sixth month of the year, you will be reunited with the boatman of your soul. You shall once again row along with the Katilingban and the boatman will lead you home to your community.
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