The Wooden Flute Sings

Written by: Debbie Guzzi

From the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound
the lamas leap and the water falls-- clear,
mindful, the wind's play on the Quechua's ground. 

The majesty of the Andes astounds
for from behind the clouds, the peaks reappear.  
From the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound.

Like great red-clay dunes or snow capped mounds;
courts rise and fall in terrain, so austere; 
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 

Rainbows of red, blue, and gold oft surround
distant ruins of gray stones, now severe 
from the mountain's peak; the wooden flutes sound.

Solid, earth-bound, sun-browned, lost to the hounds,
so, Quechua shepherds bound stairs cavalier--
mindful; the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 

Pachamama's love surrounds without bounds, 
long gone are the conquer's; all life is here,
from the mountain's peak, the wooden flutes sound--
mindful, the winds play on the Quechua's ground. 


* Quechua is one of the native people of Peru
**The Dominican Monks set hounds trained to kill 
on the natives who refused conversion.
*** Pachamama, fertility Godess in Incas Mythos