The Wailing Woman

The Wailing Woman

A Poem by Vishuddha

I did not return,
To the far Salinas,
The desolate salt flats,
The white Salinas,
Full of phantoms,
Wanting to be,
Haunting me,
The Salinas of ever-restless winds,
Forever blowing under my door.

At first, I thought I did not return,
Because of the bitter taste of the salt in the air,
Because of the treeless plains,
And, the disillusioned sand.

I thought,
I did not return,
Because the searing sun,
Would strike my face with a slap.
I thought,
The lack of rain would sober me up.
I would be disoriented by the absence of rivers,
And, the dearth of things,
Flowing downstream.

I thought, it was,
Because of the nonexistence,
Of the intensions of clouds.
I thought, it was,
Because I did not want to see,
The dizzy gleam in the old prospector’s eye,
Lost in his own mind,
Wandering, without remembering why,
Into mirages and illusive mountains,
Oasis daydreams and elusive fountains.
I thought I did not want to encounter,
The outlines of yesterday,
And, ghosts,
Floating with the rise of the moon.

I did not want to walk over the dead ground,
To tread on hollow roots,
To hear the empty sighs of the earth under my feet,
Full of memories and reverberations.

I did not want to be struck by the wild delirium,
Caused by the rattlesnake’s bite.
I did not want to taste the overly ripe apples,
To smell the odor of stinging, alkaline springs,
To feel salt crystals grow on my skin.
I did not want to see how quickly my blood would dry,
And, disappear into the soil when I die.

But, in the end, it was none of these things.
I did not return,
Because I feared to hear,
The sighs of the setting sun,
The throbbing whimpers,
Rising with the first, faint star,
The piercing sound of unforgiving tears,
And, the lonely banshee cries,
From the broken heart of the Wailing Woman,
Infusing the lightning and the thunder,
With the expression of extinction,
And, the oppression of oblivion,
Bemoaning the demise of a people,
Ghosts of sons and daughters,
Filling the omnipresent sky,
Between the rolling dunes,
And, the scratching thorns,
With the moans of failing rituals,
And, falling gods,
Flowing out of yesterday’s darkness,
From the Mayan shore,
To the center of the world.

[April 2015]

© 2015 Vishuddha


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Reviews

I enjoyed this poetry Vishu.
Do we ever really know the why of our own choices? Do we ever have the courage to choose other than we have in the past... ?
The wailing is an acknowledgement of loss. This is well and good, but loss requires a memory or understanding of something better as well.
A cathartic poem and a lesson in history.
Well done.

Posted 8 Years Ago


You carry many stories and furthermore in and between your words here. The analogies are not just the geography of a certain place but entire history of it. It covers the breadth and length of an entire region inside the mind as well as outside.

Posted 8 Years Ago


Vishuddha

8 Years Ago

The Wailing Woman was once a prophet, wailing for what was to come. Now, she wails for what has alre.. read more
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An array of mystery streaking along the entire poem
I love your use of nature on almost every line

Divinely beautiful

Posted 8 Years Ago


Vishuddha

8 Years Ago

Yes, I am a nature lover. Of course, that's pretty much all there is out in the desert. I did live t.. read more
A very enjoyable poem ... Clearly your Hispanic roots have taken up residence with you, and the spirits of your ancestors speak through your pen ...

Posted 8 Years Ago


Workvio

8 Years Ago

Wow, how do you explain your last name? ...
Vishuddha

8 Years Ago

Cuban husband.
Workvio

8 Years Ago

Ah, I see said the blind man ...
Just beautiful, Lily. With this third poem you indeed have three fine poems about the dessert like you said before. You should say at first sight that there isn't so much to say about the dessert, but you prove otherwise. So much to say an so much to read. I think I will reread these three poems a lot of times, can learn about it too. Thanks for sharing. :) Rudi

Posted 8 Years Ago


Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

8 Years Ago

That's so right, Lily. Everything changes all the time, it's the silent current of time. :) Rudi
Vishuddha

8 Years Ago

Oh, I like that phrase! Very poetic.
Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere

8 Years Ago

Well, I've posted a poem yesterday 'Silent current'. It's about time and becoming old. If you are in.. read more
Absolutely tremendous piece. What an epic poem with flow and imagery that flows down your pen like the Amazon. So descriptive my flow of writes seems like a trickle in comparison. How talented you are in verse and your knowledge of words

Posted 8 Years Ago


Vishuddha

8 Years Ago

I cannot compare your poems and mine. You have such a delightful sense of fun and humor, in your wri.. read more

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Added on April 27, 2015
Last Updated on May 25, 2015

Author

Vishuddha
Vishuddha

A Looking Glass Land, FL



About
I am a romantic, born into an unromantic era. I am a restless wanderer, always seeking, in love with nature, in love with life. I am a native Floridian, with one foot in the Everglades and one foot on.. more..

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