the return of the Muse, the return of the wild woman within her
tracing the muses and following to it whispers, like an echo of her, a literal remembrance, deep through sacred land, center of an Andean empire, a land so ancient carrying lives of a thousands, deaths, and reincarnations.
deep and dark, bleeding and birthing, solid and spacious
tracing the path to creation, through fertile lands and the river
rich in layers, colors, and minerals, form over millions of years
a layers of prayer, pressed into sediment
a mountain spirit: solid, still, gigantic
so still it's anchoring beneath your feet,
but underneath it?
a stock of fire and layers of tectonic
an inheritance of rupture and resurrection
as the mountain herself, formed and carrying a scars from a thousand ancestral
the soft skin, the first layer that sense it all
a touch and a nudge from God
scars that are seen, but the unseen?
the ancestral scars passing down to her,
through generation and generation, how could she remember?
it's down flowing and forming, in the blood and in the bone
in pulse, in posture
etched in flesh, engraved in marrow
body that carries it all, bleeding it all, birthing it all
a wound and a womb
both open, become a portal to the ancestral,
she's a Scar Clan