Her
Her presence lights a
room up
Not always with her
words but
With grace only known
to Her.
For what takes us
places
Aren't buses, planes
or trains
No, it's something
that forever remains
It's that connection
that
Sparks fire, comfort
provides and grasps on
divides despite
Atitlan
“Yo, get up.”
Hands wipe across my face
Yawns, complaints, all gone
With that motion.
Step out tent.
Crunching beneath my feet
Sounds of volcanic gravel
All around us.
Look to either side
A cold, steep, unforgiving volcano
Surrounds me and my friends
Clouds hang low, visibility? Naught.
This isn’t what I got up for.
It’s 3 AM, too early to hike
Finally, sit down close to each other
One sleeping bag for the three of us.
“Just wait” it’s worth it, I promise.
Nylon is no match for these
Extreme conditions
Better be worth it.
We agree, just 5 more minutes.
2, 3, 4, start packing up our stuff
When suddenly,
A warm ray shines off the surrounding obsidian.
The black rock absorbs it all.
It’s a sign, the sun is soon here
We wait more, more
Suddenly, it happens.
Too fast for my mind to capture.
Colors bursting all around.
Red blue, every shade of hue.
The rays shining through the clouds.
Oh boy, what’s this.
A lake, the beach one on either side.
I can’t believe it for one moment.
This is my country, joy and pride.
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