Nazca

 

Arms draped in chains of choice.

The weight– 

unsobering, 

'till dizziness ensued.

Your loyal promise to a worthless cause;

In cold-lined quarry; blood in stone.

In the deep chasm of your well-mined heart

Lies a hollow.

Your fallen grace kicks up the Earth,

As do the ghosts that haunt on horse,

This broken land.

When the herd-dust settles, it reveals

An eagle in brand–

a long-trapped soul

Mapped out across your back.

Your Nazca lines are flawlessly brazen

And strong with intent, 

but too far above

The River of life.

A mortal stands dry in

Mortar-hardened coil.

You somehow live,

'tho you failed to irregate.

Drive out the demons.

Starve out the fear.

Know this and know it to the core:

There will always be a choice.

As it has been said,

There are far worse fates than

Physical death.

Call the River to surface.

Let the parched eagle drink.

Millions of hummingbirds will call afloat.

They will tumble, twirl, 

fall, swirl & spark,

As hope takes flight 

'cross endless skies.

~ Formerly titled: "Puquios." 

Thanks for reading!

 

© Copyright 2011, Hannah Ellie (one of Susan's writer pseudonyms). All rights reserved.

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Author's note:

This poem immediately came to me, while reading about it in National Geographic.

Image Credits (for collage):

Collage by Susan Leitch, 2019

Source Images:

The Hummingbird: Diego Delso, CC BY-SA 4.0

Nasca Monkey: Public Domain.

Satellite picture of an area containing Nazca lines: Public Domain.

The Condor: Diego Delso, CC BY-SA 4.0

An entrance to the puquios, near Nazca, Peru: Robert Thompson. Public Domain.

Here are some more resources:

Puquios

Nazca Lines