Consider the rippling of water,
deep, emerald-black water,
and bronze on the surface
where the golden light falls
like pillars into a monument.
In this water lie the jaguar,
the condor, and the snake:
The jaguar is the deep
reflected in the shallow,
rising from beneath,
the black coat behind the mirror
that sheens holographic
upon the surface;
the water does not ripple
without power.
The condor is the surface,
feather-light,
turning wind in the wing
with slight movements
to hold the glinting bronze
for a moment;
the water does not ripple
without the ephemeral.
The snake is the current
undulating in the gem pool,
serpentine, eternally stirring
black depth
and shimmering columns
to keep them from separating
like oil and water;
the water does not ripple
without tension.
Consider the depths of you,
the power,
and the surface, the ephemeral
and the tension coursing in you;
you are at once the jaguar,
the condor, and the snake
in the sunken temple.
Then you are ready.