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Day #15: La Montaña que Canta, Part II

A version of this content was originally published in Music, Memory (2014). Names have been changed to protect individuals' privacy.

Huaraz, Ancash Region, Peru

 

i. morning

 

we offer our sounds to dawn unfolding

cliffs pulsing with the life-throb         of our drums

our melodies accompany the slither of shadows --

this      is         the       Real     World!

and i could stare for hours…

distant ice glows from within, suggesting

a million poems with every instant and

enough ecstasy to sob or scream --

can’t    take this home

can’t    have this forever…

first crescent of sun refracts off the air

a rainbow arch over the cordillera blanca:

red orange yellow green blue violet.,

startling breath of warmth in those rays; off come the

scarf hat gloves jacket

and i now believe in heaven

it is right          here

right                 now –

 

how can you feel lonely

in the cradle of the Andes?

 

 

ii. evening

 

together we weave a blanket of flower petals:

[  ■    red - heart

   ■    white - healing, forgiveness

   ■    yellow - mental clarity

   ■    purple - metamorphosis ]

and i start with yellow

and maybe that means

i haven’t changed so much

after all…

 

later

i close my eyes

and Miguel sings to me

hand (safe) resting on my skull

(petals rain on my head shoulders lap eyelids)

 

and Maria presses some gently

into my palms

soft warm between my fingertips --

when i open my eyes:

red