The way of the rocks

The trail down the mountain

is filled with jagged stones

and rocks, rocks torn fresh

from the earth, rocks tearing

bare feet, barefoot souls,

marking the trail with splashes

of blood, via dolorosa, for

the trail filled with jagged stones

is the only way.

Photograph by Dany Jack Mercier via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission. 

The Way to the Hill

My feet stumble along a road

cobblestoned in quarried granite

and recycled marble; I trip over

the back of a god, former. Drops

of sweat, blood, sweaty blood

fall, soon matted into dust, a

dried remembrance of things past,

things lost but brilliant for a time

flashes of color amid

a gray somberness, a silence

of growing dread, a silence

of condemnation.

The way to the hill is paved

with hot granite, melting marble,

stones burning as they cry out.

Photograph: Mercantour by Michel Bousquet via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.