I land in the home of my heart
In the valley of Cauca
where mist meets mountain
steamy heat spires up
from mirrored grounds
and the spraying tops of sugar cane
wave glistening in the breeze
Home- where the weave of time stretches
and curves into a hammock for my soul
where people with hands like birds
that accentuate words
welcome me, kindness diffused
as the generous expanse of tropical sky
Clouds always present, always passing
soften and suffuse brilliant light
rolling down from Olympic heights
like lush ephemeral lava-
they shine pool-like shadows over the valley
and cast hazy veils over
purple pyramid mountains
hiding the outlines of their unwavering forms
with a play of diaphanous mists
and giant smoky white eidolons.
From one hour to the next
the threat of danger pulsates
as billowing clouds limed with light
darken and amass
pregnant with possibilities-
signs come subtly and suddenly:
slightly swaying palm trees, a fresher breeze
the clouds exhale steamy sighs
then burst into rain
and when fully peeved
run a riot erupting with thunder
lancing lightening through the valley
which rumbles with their haunting echoes
until the sun simply reappears.
I have come home
where clouds tease me to be aware
to breathe in and out as
they hide the sun and reveal it
in shifting waves of weightless dispersion.
The skies welcome me,
people, with hands like birds
that accentuate words
welcome me
I am here
a gentle vastness encompasses me
I am home.
