Urubamba.
URUBAMBA.
Chipped mountains
With the condor eyes
Flaked by some sinister
Grey hounds of the rocks.
This is a place
For reflections
Stranding together
Some multiple fractions.
Wider vistas
Opening to alluvial lands
Geared in the high plateau
Imposing on winding river
Designs of their hoary hands.
Beyond the granite walls
There is a flutter of green
Decked by plaited yellow
Where little humming bird flings
Sipping nectar from each mellow.
Alone amid sacred valleys
Gushing waters of the flow
Of meandering Urubamba
Guarded by the temples
Fortresses of the Pisac
Amid Machu-Picchu’s glow.
Drenched in past memories
The ushered in Rio Urubamba
Of the sacred cannons flows
Amid sedges in forests of rain
Protected by spirits of Amazon.
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