Greeting the Mother, the Womb of the Earth, Lago de Atitlan

The Lake shouts as she lays still, basking the whole land in depth.

From our heights we can feel her blowing, shining,

igniting her long arms to embrace our naked bodies.

She is not just the Water,

She is the Wind,

She is the Sunrise that dances on her very palette.

She is the lava that flows red hot, bubbling from her

border of Volcanoes.

She is smoke breathing heavy exhales from her Womb,

the Womb of the Earth.

She is the smoke of the Temescal as it dances in the alveoli of the lungs, as we raise our voices as One.

Harmonies tangle in her smoke,

carrying me to a place of surrender,

where I touch—even for a note, for a moment—my power;

the Goddess from whence I came and to whom I shall return.

Like a drop I flow from her clouds all the way through her

smoldering lava,

her sparkling colors kiss my face.

All the while, her lightning guides my every step.

I plant one foot confidently in front of the other;

She rises to meet me as I fall back to her,

the Womb of the great Mother Earth.