per amica silentia lunae

or, across the ferny brae with the evil voodoo celt

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poem
nola
evcelt
On Lake Atitlán in Guatemala, the weather can change rapidly in the afternoon- from glassy calm, the winds kick up, and waves over six feet high can occur at the height of the storm. Called Xocomíl, this is also known to the Maya who live on the lake as "the wind that blows away sin". Local legends attribute it to the head of a man-eating giant, thrown into the depths by the local tribes after being killed and dismembered for his rampages. I have also heard a story about two lovers who passed beneath the water- and were transformed, not drowned. In this story, the storms rise to hide them when they want to make love.

Luckily, we only encountered a fairly mild thunderstorm when we were on the lake. That was bad enough.


Song to the Lake Storm

From wind-stir on water,
Bright fire on jade blue,
Come, Xocomíl.
From rainbow and thunder,
From cloud kissing mountains,
Come, Xocomíl.
From breath of the giant,
Head sunken in shadows,
Come, Xocomíl.
Veil of the lovers,
Lost in deep magic,
Come, Xocomíl.
Shatter the surface
And wave-smash the mirror
Gather our sins
And sweep away sadness.
Show us your power
And touch us with fear.
Make us glad for the earth,
Happy for comrades,
Grateful for peace.
With clouds of white copal
With words of the ancients,
We bless Xocomíl.
By Heart of the Heavens,
By Heart of the Mountains,
We bless Xocomíl.
After storm passes
And calm lies on lake shore
We bless Xocomíl.

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