High above the wind the condor

floats with the sun, his shodow skims

along the serpentine mountain

peaks with the grace of misty clouds.

High in his solitude he soars

with only the sun to keep

his secrets, the condor passes

over time outstretched in stones.

High stands his throne in mountain crags,

who can see his majestic flight

with ordinary eyes, one must

look up towards the edge of heaven.

06/01/2003