I love ancient ruins and museums. I wonder about the people who built these places.
Machu Picchu
My muse whispers through
each grassy footstep across
verdant courtyard;
voices of the ghosts, perhaps,
watching from every dusty corner
as I wander narrow crumbling paths.
Blood cries out from the stone altar,
voices that were stilled, but
can never be silent.
Peace and violence,
life and death coexist
across centuries.
Wild city, lost city,
thrust among the clouds,
judged by the gods, and
left to die alone.
Mystery lives in the mist, and
wonder fills my soul, as
the scene unfolds before me.
Here, in the rareified air
a civilization came and went,
with barely a whisper betwixt.
Wonderful imagery a with a beautiful sense of reverence. Well done, Dallas.
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader)
Reviewed on June 2, 2009
Great poem Dallas. Very tight and clean. My wife's family is from Peru and they have been there. Love to go someday. Aztac ruins would be another great visit.
A sense of wonder, respect for the mystery that we call life with all its accomplishments, trials, and experiences feeds the sensitive soul, Dallas. It is evident that you write of a feast that will never be forgotten. Congratulations. I'm glad you had the opportunity to experience the wonder and to share it with us. Thank you. Linda
This is my kind of topic and my kind of writing, Dallas.
Of all the wonders I have yet to see, Machu Picchu is near
the top. Thank you for this. -gene.
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
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Ron
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Fine evocation and highly atmospheric, I feel and share the sense of reverence and the sense of intrusion. Thank you for this.
John
Of all the wonders I have yet to see, Machu Picchu is near
the top. Thank you for this. -gene.