Pájaro Sagrado
Trogon Lodge, Talamanca Mountains
Okay, see that
tall white
distinctive tree?
Left of that
tangled
clump?
Left of that
straighter
trunk?
Trace it
almost
to the top,
where three
big branches
bear left.
Follow the lowest,
veer off
on that little switch
and there,
backlit,
blink
double quick
/ hold
breath / sharpen
focus /There roosts
resplendent
as promised
el quetzal.
Back to us,
he trails
his tail of light,
trail we might
trace
toward quiet.
Flash of red
beneath his wing—
he preens,
whole being
haloed.
A few steps
higher, our eyes
take in
truer colors—
blue-green
of clear sea
over thriving reefs.
Perhaps he swallowed
the tiny avocado
he prefers. Maybe
that's why
he's so still.
Perhaps, like us,
he has nowhere
better to be. 
El Laberinto
Pájaro Sagrado
Ramón’s Eyes