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pete
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she folded her wings into her back, seemlessly the disappeared between the blades of her shoulders. the winds that carried her across oceans and deserts had ceased, and here she was stranded.
the people surrounded her, whispering prayers and holy names. "goddess" one old mother mouthed as the the angel opened her pale blue coloured eyes, breathing in and sighing deeply.
she was not a goddess. she was a traveller, lost in a backwater village surrounded by mislead would be worshipers. she was pained by the old woman's grief, but not moved by it. no, she was moved by much greater things.
the angel kept walking in slow measured steps. not looking one way or the next, keeping her eyes locked in front of her, percieving everything. the wind had failed. the wind failed. she was stranded.
and she feared.
a hymn grew from the villagers. it was harshly sung, but the voices knew it well, showing a kind of polish possible only after long, unguided practice.
'...tremor for me
let the sweat run
in blood shaped drips
seep through glass
and bellow
dented sounds, like ice hitting pavement ...'
she shuddered. she closed her eyes. within her soul she saw the wind crumbling mid-flight, ceasing in an instead, sending her on a gentle descent to the earth. she cried. the villagers stopped singing. they stepped back solemnly.
the angel opened her eyes. pale blue coloured eyes. the sun flared, touching her silver hair sending the daemons of the village scuttering to the hills.
"come back," she whispered so softly, "come back.."
the old woman spoke again, "goddess..."
"i am no goddess," the angel spoke firmly, full of love, but so none could hear it, "goddesses don't fall from the sky."
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050623
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