Present Marking  the Past,  Verse II   (of Six)
   Mayan priest: 

   I crawl like a viper to you
   With the fire of the day
   Piercing me around,
   The seed of your
   spirit under my arm
   The heavens have turned
   And you ask our songs
   To pound into the night
   I lament the sweet scents
   that travel in the vapor,
   Strewn here in your honor,
   May be but small offerings
   when light meets light.

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