This was the most difficult poem for me to write ... the heroine was once my fiancee.


In the Company of Strangers --- (Repost)

Third day of this trek descending
rapidly from cloud forest into high jungle habitat,
alive with hummingbirds and orchids,
her Q'ero porters guide the tour group
to Intipunko, "Gate of the Sun".
At 4:30 AM and 10,000 feet altitude
biting cold cracks stone, eats exposed flesh,
stealing breath as she gulps pale sunlight.
Coca leaves wadded in her cheek
forge mind against the acts of atmosphere.
A lifelong pilgrimage to this purpose,
observation of the sunrise over Machu Picchu.

The Q'ero pass around a sack of pemmican.
What meat it is, she doesn't ask.
It smells of canvas, but tastes of apricot.
Her fate entrusted to these guides,
she eats what they offer.
This Inca Trail is marked with their scent;
they follow signposts painted on thin air,
read morning mists like road maps.
They have brought her to this citadel,
Lost City of Peace and Power.
Her life for now at equinox,
shaman-guides have opened her vision
to the hitching post of the sun.




Poetry by Brian Oarr
Read 524 times
Written on 2009-04-03 at 05:34

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Elle
One of my aims in life is to go there - You made me live and breathe this dream of mine :-)

Elle x
2009-04-03



Wow, an amazing expedition, and a fantastic text, perched between heaven and earth, body and mind ...
2009-04-03



Fantastic line: it smells of canvas, but tastes of apricot. The line sounds iambic in meter and the image is striking. I've been to some of the Mayan ruins in Mexico, but never to Machu Picchu; after reading this poem, I almost feel as though I have. Boy, am I exhausted. Let' s make camp! :)

Cheers,
William
2009-04-03