San Pedro de Atacama, Chile - Poems & Photos
Dec 10 - 16
Days 40 - 46
Pilgrimage
There are loves you shout from the rooftops
and others you keep close to your heart
barely whisper a word about
Lest the world takes them from you
A desert.
A secret place, hidden
in a world occupied with visiting mountains and jungles, cities and oceans.
Overlook me, she says. There is nothing here.
A desire to go to her
to see her in her solitude
a seed planted years ago
in a classroom far away from where I am now
The pilgrimage starts on an overnight bus
From the high plateau to the border city
Alone and obviously foreign, I am in need of guides
Two angels take me with them over the border
A bus takes me closer
In the early morning hours, I arrive in a dangerous town
And see my path is blocked by drunkards on the street
Remember: you are surrounded by angels
I find an angel loading a car and ask how will I get where I need to be
She will drive me
I am protected
Continue eastward into the rising sun
I see the desert and my fatigue dissipates
this is the end of the pilgrimage
And the start of the six day prayer
To the lands of the Atacama
Desert Prayer
No matter how far I go,
It is myself I meet in tow
Ocean, mountain, desert, plain
Reflect a truth I can’t sustain
The desert, an epic expanse
Nothing here at first glance
Sun unforgiving to the fool
Each breath an effort to stay cool
Water un-rippled by a breeze
Flamingo, quiet as they feed
They don’t know why, but yet they feel
The impact of the mining reel
The rocks are red, oxidized
The sky is blue as cyanid
Vicuna feed on highland grass
Human presence seems fairly crass
Early morning, geysers steam
Heat exuding from the mantle’s stream
The desert seems another world
Yet it’s ours that we observe
There is no shade
No second chance
The world, it spins
No looking back
Eventually, the sun does set
We witness what we’ll soon forget
Another day has come and gone
An earth, a sun, ever moving on
Without the light of our nearest star
Darkness reveals a world afar
No pollution so I can see
Ancient worlds revealed to me
The prayer is one I barely hear
Until it’s blaring in my ears
It consumes my entire being
It is truth that I am seeing
The truth is that this world is mine
In all its glory, grandeur sublime
I am responsible to live and be
I am the universe, I am free
And yet I am a tiny speck
Amidst infinity, I’m insignificant
Does what I do matter at all?
The trust surrounds, heed the call