Lake Titicaca was known to the Incas as a sacred lake. Over the last few days, I have been able to visit islands on both the Bolivian and Peruvian sides, and walking the stoney paths, looking out to the ruins, marveling over the breathtaking views, it is easy to find the sanctity of the place. This lake inspires a holiness with the land, and even now at a computer in Puno, I continue to feel the affects of the ancient waters.

Isla del Sol

Sun warms my skin

thawing winter away

from snow capped Andes

misting over blue waters

that sparkle in yellow and pinks

playing tricks on my eyes.

A native woman nurses her child

behind a blanket, multicolored fluorescents,

and coos her to the rocking of the boat.

On land, sunlight bleaches my eyes along

white salted paths.

My hands have turned rosy and cracked

like the round cheeks of Bolivian children.

Short of breath I find stone ruins,

Incan work at the edge of a hillside

and a million doorways and windows

jump out to the sunlit lake.