I hate to think about the walls I´ve built within my mind
To hide away the love, the joy, the tears I cannot find
But purple earth caked to the sides of botas far too new
And waking up at four to dusty clothes and morning dew
The taste of coca rich and sweet that tingles on my toungue
And marveling at mountains painted rainbow by the sun
But most of all the people who I feel I´ve come to know
The places we have been and all the places we will go
The stories we have shared, the mystery of every meal
All of this and all of you are teaching me to feel
(A poem I wrote during our hour long solo walk between the towns of Maragua and Potolo on trek)