With Marigolds The Sun Breaks Through Las Grutas** De San Sebastian Poem by Warren Falcon

With Marigolds The Sun Breaks Through Las Grutas** De San Sebastian



**'the Grottoes' - a sacred site with rushing underground springs flowing up from rock caverns into equally rushing streams in Oaxaca, Mexico


...return in storm, mudslide, road
flood, somehow make it to las grutas
on the way just in time discover old
chapel small, worn, sweet against
a hill firm from slides rushets

...quiet blue interior, Our Lady stands
firm too, graceful, veiled, lightning
strike all around, roars outside nothing
against palpable blue softness, & the Host
firm suchness upon Old World table, flowers
fresh poised, ecstatic, golden mouth Chalice
open full of shadow, hungry mouths to feed

...enter a child a school boy soaked
bare feet uniform darker blue stain run
rain-wind-storm sheltered now the Virgin
place cool upon feet, where is this school
unseen on only road the way to las grutas

...bow before the Host, genuflect small
delicate hands palms white kneel on creaking
wood kneeler kiss fingers holy traces
his prayer

...I have come from afar
from godless City enveloped in
my own importance trapped my own
motions no purpose knees or hands
now come to monstrance find this
muddy miracle with marigolds

...sun breaks through, child walks
tio's house I follow tongueless, a
burro 2 miles mud, flood, to caves,
springs, boy Anselmo out front, little
heels press little pony grey, one
eye brown the other blue, Golondrina,
his name, The Swallow, do not ask why
beneath the bluing sky flush with bird
song in waters red we tread on,
me a distance behind

...arrive tearing springs caves erupt
full dark overhang a place for prayer
not for my knees but Anselmo's on black
root kneel holds hard to a limb "don't
fall in" I shout suddenly shaken nothing
within to hold to

All are barefoot there: beasts boy

...return, little chapel
blue, an offering for Our Lady
(muddy shoes) receives all things
arms outward extend blessing
blue cool shadows quiet there
where mud may me dry


Chipped vases

altar flowers bright


Done with City

with self


Which goes first?


No matter


The All Blue

chooses

Monday, March 25, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: prayer
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Warren Falcon

Warren Falcon

Spartanburg, South Carolina, USA
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