Sometimes a momentary lapse of intuition and subsequent decision making, defines our actions, much more than what is pondered or calculated. Tat Te’k wrote a lot and one fine afternoon he had the idea of asking me to record all his work on a USB which, more than a decade ago, was a totally unknown gadget in the mountains of perennial fog, his place of residence. He is a man of all times, in one arm carrying his lap top and with his hands counting incense seeds and bouquets of flowers.
A selection of his poetic work is presented now from that device. It is a book where the ancestral song, the secret life of the clouds and the wind, the animals that help us to think philosophy.
Tat Te’k did not walk alone, on the paths on the way to the Maya altars, our ancestors whispered the songs of the Popol Wuj, protected him and sat by his side to listen to the most sophisticated and neat k’iche’ when he lit the fire of contact and communication.
Now, between leaf and leaf, flower and aroma of the text, I invite the reader to discover the master.
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