Through the valley a stormy wind blows
Mountain ibex eyes the storm, disdainfully
Heading for the heights a young, blond man
ill-prepared, save the courage of youth
silver society of poets’ badge pinned
above rapidly pounding heart
In his numb hand he clenches desperately
the well-thumbed copy of ‘Ulysses’
In quieter times he reads until his eyes burn
now draws comfort from wildflowers in bloom
dotted sporadically midst craggy faces
defiant against the biting wind
on ancient rocks, guardians of this lofty path
Afar a pair of strained eyes
watch the faltering progress
astonished by his audacity
She looks skyward in prayer
no-one has ventured here for years
is he the chosen one?
bearing the secret talisman promised
in the sacred writing
Opening the leather-bound volume
she closes her eyes momentarily and prays
for his safety, trying to quell the fear
raising its ugly head in her gut
then comes suddenly to a decision
She slips the gold band from her finger
and places it gently beside the old text
close to her heart
Taking up her weaving
she shouts out ‘Hallelujah!’
and sews the ring into place
His close when she lifts her eyes
to the sound of the key in lock
The sky lightens as
she bows her head
to his feet
He hands her
the most prized possession
She tenderly places his ibex-ring
beside hers
Their eyes meet and
they lose themselves in a kiss
