Up & up & up & the sun
sang timbale licks
our one sun, our star, long
before the timbale was invented
before the licks & chops
were translated into K’iche’
& this is obvious on this path here
around the back of the step-pyramid.
Ants rush up-down
their expressways–half carrying leaves
half going to the tree to cut.
I walk the blue-red clay-ground
to three stunning pyramids, tucked into
the toes of a Ceiba tree’s massive feet
three ant-mountains with fire red ants
swarming around their proud structures
precisely built with what archaeologists
would say is limited technology:
a society without the wheel or metal tools
built behemoth mountains
which rival that of any skyscraper:
these ants leave the leaves to ferment
inside, to drink later.
I see behind the Ceiba tree’s muscular leg
behind the striations of the bark:
another behemoth:
the blood-red Mayan Temple of Masks
where carved Mayan men
kings, seers, shamans, daykeepers
are said to have been
able to cross the galaxy
by crossing their legs.
I sit & cross my legs.
I do not yet travel–
though i will!–
but find myself staring at ants
who march robotically
controlled by an unknown light
in the universe
to a cross-legged human observing
up through at in onto the canopy
a vine sunbathes on top
below the tree it has
wrestled into submission
withers and dies
a dead heavy leaf
falls.

Like this, it has begun.