THE BIRTH PLACE OF THE WORLD

The Incas believed it all started here, on the Isla de Sol,
Called ‘Inti’ in Aymarac. In the ruins of their temple
High above the world, you can still trace a circuit of
Existence. Peruvian hills to the West fade
In the late afternoon. Chasing their tail to become
Bolivian hills, which turn into far Eastern snow-
Capped peaks, a studded chain that points the way for the
Sun to rise again. The temple is no more than
A few stones now, artfully arranged like a totem
Of what these stones must once have meant. As though
The world they emerged from, were shaped within, had all
But disappeared. Yet in a nook, in a half-cut
Coca Quina bottle, someone has left a spray of white
Flowers. A tribute to gods still at large, their gifts still craved.
The sun falls away. Above the white-blue-purple clouds,
The mountains are made gold. At the death, Inti is hidden
Yet the mountains still gleam. An alchemy to which I too
Belong, revealed to me at my journey’s furthest edge.

isla de sol 04.10.04