Peru

[Guest guest]

PERU

 

 

If you want to hear the mountains,

do exactly as I say.

There are rules to things like this.

And I tell you that many

have come this way more than once

and have not heard them yet.

 

Listen:

You should leave Lima early.

The flight at five will get you there by six,

before the morning fog wraps Cuzco thick.

When that first crest of snow caps rise

you'll feel the thinness of your breath.

A quiet ache settles in the chest.

Do not stop for Indian trinkets.

Drink the coca tea and then go straight to bed.

 

At four you rise to start again,

this time by train.

But do not think that you are almost there.

The ride will take six hours:

the switchbacks laced with waterfalls

and clustered sheep. Sit on the left

to see the Indians wrapped in layered rainbows,

black bowler hats and braids,

spinning llama yarn outside their homes,

the widsom of their people lost

except when kings return in dreams

and speak about the stones

 

At the base of Machu Pichu

there will be five hundred tourists

bursting from the train,

like subway riders in a city rush.

Step aside and let the others push.

Look up to the right

and see the cavern homes where mothers nursed,

and children scattered ants for play.

Listen to the river rushing madly to you;

listen to the rising of your own breath.

There are no other sounds.

 

 

There are no birds. No chatter here.

 

When you can feel the pulse beneath your feet,

then start the climb, the way you must, on foot.

You are the silent stranger coming to this time.

And all the mountains are waiting.

Through a thousands years of solitude,

they have all been pressing toward this moment,

of your coming, of your coming.

 

1984

 

Susan Dane

<http://www.susandane.com>