WALKING WITH IXCHEL

walking a windy path to the edge

Ixchel closes her eyes

to see if she might stumble

undeterred by darkness our moon goddess never falters

never misses a step

balances on tip-toes to the jagged rim before falling from raw cliffs into a fruity cocktail-colored sea

unlike staggering rum-soaked conquistadors walking the plank

claiming her temple island for spain

Ixchel was here first

who did these self-proclaimed conquerors think they were

stinking lice-ridden fools

macho madmen

Ixchel bathes in fragrant moonbeams

marvels at freshly squeezed orange sunrise

sprinkles rich sea salt on delicious dreams

warm lunar love lights her way home

to shelter

in bounteous Isla Mujeres existence

forever rich on land, sea and air

atoms to atoms

dust to dust

beyond the beyond

forever

walking with Ixchel

down our serpentine spiritual path