wama

21.06.07

a mother and daughter rest. They will walk a long way. But now, they sit huddled close. The little girl whispers something to her mother -- who listens carefully. Kneeling, head tilted down to hear her daughter’s every sigh and breath. A mountain smokes behind them. They way before them is slippery and they will always work to find balance. There is no clear path, just footholds and the sun’s knowing smile greeting moon.

The girl’s story I part nightmare -- Hands to head: oh no.
a girl with braids who becomes a snake a minatoar a low flying cloud a tall thin shadow of a spirit watching carefully on tiptoes.

The mother’s story is meant to soothe the child as mother’s stories do. “I am listening child, but you need to calm down. There’s no such thing as girls that become snakes and minatoars. That is the stuff of fairytales. Take you time. I’m having trouble keeping up with you and you must not leave without me.”

posted by la kara @ 10:37