Walking past Inca walls, sensing presence—
the Altars of the world— their five-sided jewels
embracing fields of stones— stunning beauty.

Each section had a center— that center was a flower.
Discovering ourselves going to huaca— to reverence,
Americo explained the differences between

Stone, huaca, l’estrella (the stars). Many experienced
the energy of Chinchero so strongly that the world
would be eaten up— therefore— not arriving here.

Americo, said the opposite— learn to stop resisting—
let rocks have everything. Whatever was there would
take energy— later you would get it back aplenty.

Hearing that the Incas had secret passageways—
caves underneath—led all the way to Machu Picchu.
Wandering through narrow corridors, stairs carved

Fallen away. Uncovering places for meditation,
no more instructions. Coming across a throne
near the top, dropping my backpack

Jacket— looked out upon the Andes, closed my eyes,
saw green gold light, then fell, crumbling into a deep
purple area marked with hairy crevices.

There was a feeling of peace and complete dissolving.
Suddenly a brilliant Kaleidoscope— flowers emerged,
continued quite a while— arms and legs releasing

Spasmodically— viewing a slope of the mountain
— discerning rosy lines of Pachamama—
her mouth a slit.

The exit was also entrance leading
to tremendous release— no stress
— walking back filled— new vitality.