Lago Atitlán
evening 100807 at the lakeside
Clouds are painting in the sky
and down on earth
little waves wash swash slash onto shores
a slight little breeze comes to greet
with the beat of the lake
„Hello stranger
I am Atitlán
and my real name will not be
told. Sunken am I
from heights unseen
by human eye
Yes, I touched the deepest sky
once, when I was high
but sunken have I
and instead of dry desolation
I took water's life and consolation
Now all the peaks around me
are humble
as they saw and know that
they can fall and stumble
just like me
and be
a lake
.
