Woke up to a bird
flying out of my
body, a ripened
bird of
joy, water guy
delivering water, flute
player sharpening knives,
warm blue tortillas
soon, joy joy
joy...young man,
immense bucket of
rainbows on his
shoulders, I buy
my share, he smiles,
the woman on the
corner, warm tamales
wrapped in Madre
Maiz, Mother Corn,
hot thick chocolate
atole, breakfast,
my granddaughter gave
birth to her first
child, beautiful boy,
my granddaughter a
healer, may her son be a
healer, as my youngest
son, my granddaughter's
age, a healer, a lover
of Earth, Madre Mar,
Sweet Sky, the families
he heals, his own
family, now
a man, the world-
bring me the daily
sorrows, my own,
the world's- do you
think the rose suddenly
just bursts into bloom,
it begins as a dream
at the very tip of the
thorn, the one that demands
blood- this is how the
rose is born, blooms,
To Logan Pauvan Preto, blossomed,
born, his mother's blood, February 18th, 2013.
To my amazing granddaughter,
Ashley Preto.
Alma Luz Villanueva
San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
(c) All writing copyright on this blog.
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