Mama Ciurona— mountain
near an observatory where men
—campesinos have visions—

Three-phased red Pachamama—
baby— mother of Inca—
whirly dervish.

In a field by the side of the road,
in sight of San Juan Mountain—
one of the snow-capped peaks

Of the Andes— instructed me
to open myself up to the energy
of mountains. Immediately

Feeling, thud in my navel—
gladness opened there—
lupin, painted lady,

White butterflies. Wonder at
agave growing nearly sculptured
by wind into the shape of serpents.

Entering Chinchcherra— coming
to see a navel in sight of
snow-capped Andes.