King of the Andes

Over and over I play "El cóndor pasa," Flight of the Condor.
Andean music with wind pipes and pan flutes speaks to me.
Soaring above the clouds with the King of the Andes,
My heart flying higher and higher with every haunting note.

Clouds shot swiftly across the snow-covered Andes,
Early rise at sunrise, thick alpaca wool purple cape,
Flowing green skirt, and wide brim purple sombrero.
Warm and sophisticated, I fly like the wind.

The mighty Andean condors float eye-level on the thermals
Rising from below, glided, turned, dived and climbed,
Soaring above my head, before making their way down,
Peru’s Colca Canyon, the center of the Earth,
disappearing out of sight.

“Adiós, mi amigos,” I say smiling wistfully,
Softly humming, “El cóndor pasa.”