She wound her way up the stony path slowly,
with bitterness etched deeply onto her face.
The shawl she carried had slipped slightly,
hanging at an awkward angle on her shoulders,
making her appear hunched and hurt.
Her sandals were thatched rope,
frayed, with soles of exhausted leather.
And from her mouth came small sounds,
heavy sighs and mirthless laughter.
Along a bend,
some small stones made her slip and catch her footing,
sending her crooked hand to grasp the side of the mountain path,
and forcing a gasp to escape her muttering.
"Curse this journey," she said aloud to no one,
"and curse this road," she intoned, although more softly than before.
Releasing the cliffside,
she straightened as much as can be imagined,
and kept her steps tight and close.
Ascending higher,
the woman turned another bend,
and suddenly stopped,
mesmerised by the shape of a particular stone,
clinging to the sandstone slab and pierced with numerous roots.
"I have seen this shape before..." she whispered,
as she carefully bent to examine, and perhaps take the strange stone with her.
Crooning to herself, she gently pried the stone loose,
and watched as what had held before, now tumbled down.
Taking a reluctant step backwards,
the woman tilted her head and viewed the new ruin,
satisfied that the crack in the sandstone had run its course.
Glancing down at the strange shape in her hand,
she quickly pocketed it in her ragged dress,
pulling back layers of cloth like the flap of a hummingbird's wings.
"I must show this to Him," she murmured,
quickly gaining lost speed,
and ascending faster than she should.
The woman hurriedly hitched her shawl higher,
and glanced only once behind her,
as she continued upwards,
caressing what was lost in her dress pocket.
Then, at a third bend,
close to the end,
she suddenly realised her mistake,
and pressed herself tightly against the cliff wall.
Moaning lowly to herself,
she began chanting in unknown words,
wrapping herself in a nimbus of tones.
With only one nervous glance upwards,
she flicked her coat sideways,
and pressed herself into her chant.
- - -
"I am too late," he growled to himself,
glancing down the mountain path,
twitching his mouth side to side in frustration.
He quieted then,
listening,
and caught it then: the sound of a hummingbird's wings fading.
Smiling strangely, he began to hum,
and slide slowly forwards.
with bitterness etched deeply onto her face.
The shawl she carried had slipped slightly,
hanging at an awkward angle on her shoulders,
making her appear hunched and hurt.
Her sandals were thatched rope,
frayed, with soles of exhausted leather.
And from her mouth came small sounds,
heavy sighs and mirthless laughter.
Along a bend,
some small stones made her slip and catch her footing,
sending her crooked hand to grasp the side of the mountain path,
and forcing a gasp to escape her muttering.
"Curse this journey," she said aloud to no one,
"and curse this road," she intoned, although more softly than before.
Releasing the cliffside,
she straightened as much as can be imagined,
and kept her steps tight and close.
Ascending higher,
the woman turned another bend,
and suddenly stopped,
mesmerised by the shape of a particular stone,
clinging to the sandstone slab and pierced with numerous roots.
"I have seen this shape before..." she whispered,
as she carefully bent to examine, and perhaps take the strange stone with her.
Crooning to herself, she gently pried the stone loose,
and watched as what had held before, now tumbled down.
Taking a reluctant step backwards,
the woman tilted her head and viewed the new ruin,
satisfied that the crack in the sandstone had run its course.
Glancing down at the strange shape in her hand,
she quickly pocketed it in her ragged dress,
pulling back layers of cloth like the flap of a hummingbird's wings.
"I must show this to Him," she murmured,
quickly gaining lost speed,
and ascending faster than she should.
The woman hurriedly hitched her shawl higher,
and glanced only once behind her,
as she continued upwards,
caressing what was lost in her dress pocket.
Then, at a third bend,
close to the end,
she suddenly realised her mistake,
and pressed herself tightly against the cliff wall.
Moaning lowly to herself,
she began chanting in unknown words,
wrapping herself in a nimbus of tones.
With only one nervous glance upwards,
she flicked her coat sideways,
and pressed herself into her chant.
- - -
"I am too late," he growled to himself,
glancing down the mountain path,
twitching his mouth side to side in frustration.
He quieted then,
listening,
and caught it then: the sound of a hummingbird's wings fading.
Smiling strangely, he began to hum,
and slide slowly forwards.
