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Peru Weaving Words - Leaving Pisac, 10/4/16 (our group poem)

The Quechua Puck's flute dancing amongst the Pisac ruins,
sending his prayers to the APUs. Rocky, uneven steps
to the sky were a challenge accomplished. The warmth of the land
lifted into her soul and to her heart, spreading
through to her arms as she hugged me "buenas dias."
Circular moon, Now crescent luna bowl. Hands stretched to center,
gathering and sharing aini. Short brown-skinned gardener
with the snaggle-toothed grin, sharing delight
in his magical land of flowers and papas. The sun shines above...
The rainbow circles around as my dear friend
walks off to greet soulmate... A gem has been chiseled
from the collected diverse warrior women traveling Peru together.
"Each facet has its own unique story."
She was three feet tall, no teeth, so old.
She giggled, very surprised, tickled really, when I put the sole
in her hand in exchange for a photo. The solace of the low notes
that come from the heart through the flute. I send you my darling son,
wrapped in your mother's shawl in the burial basket, letting it whisper
to you my love. Forget me not my darling. Waves of terraces
on a Vertical sea. Worldwide One Love –
Beautiful young singers singing Jamaican songs in Peru.
The Quechua girl, the cradled llama
A moment unfolds, A moment closes.

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