poem: the Breath of God

penciled this am on the back of a receipt at breakfast

Yesterday-

    was a day for the Dead

        Today,

we honor the living.

 

A still divided country

    united today in prayer,

awash in the smoke not of battle

  now, but incense-

and scented by flowers,

   literally metric tons

     of flowers.

 

a path to the future lit by

    millions and millions of candles

  Tonight

     we seek advice through

spaces in wreaths,

    divine fortunes by the art

of arranging palm leaves,

          just so.

 

for this is what we do, here,

     when the air is thin enough

   for us to open our ears

to the Breath of God.

 

and this morning, I thought

    I heard my long lost friend

walk beside me a few blocks

    on quiet paving stones

         in the hush

before the fireworks

      REALLY begin.

 

His footsteps whispering

    in time with the struggling

heartbeat of this land,

    500 years of memories

 reconciled each year anew

      in the folded hands

of the Virgin Mary.

 

Bless me today, then,

    for I am yet alive;

lay a wreath of camarones

    at my doorstep, and invite me,

to walk another year

     within your sight. Amen.

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

celebrating All Saints Day in Guatemala, 2012
picture is of the flower, "camarone" named because of its resemblance to shrimp; taken by the author in the marketplace 2 days ago. These flowers are used to decorate graves here for the Day of the Dead and All Saints Day

Reviews

[Rick Puetter]

Dear Marie,

As always, a delicate poem, full of thoughtfulness. Memories. Traditions. Friends that have passed and the flowers we use to honor and remember them. The Day of the Dead. Deeply rooted in Celtic tradition as Samhain, the cross-quarter holiday midway between the autumn equinox and the winter solstice. It is the end of summer in Celtic tradition and the beginning of the dark of winter. It is a time when the door to the "other world" opens enough to for the dead to walk the world. A deep cultural tradition going back many thousands of years.

Wonderful work, Marie. This was greatly enjoyed.

Best regards,

Rick

[Marie Anzalone]

Thank you, Rick, as you know, you and I both are writers trying to grapple with reconciliation of science and spirit. I believe that both scientists and mystics have a lot to offer the world. Here, in a place that is so deeply rooted in tradition, and lives so close to death... it is easy to feel a veil of sorts shifting during times like this. I did feel my friend Dan walking by my side for a few blocks... perhaps just asking me to keep believing there is something more out there than I can explain. We live within constant crises of faith if we indeed live at all. I lose mine every single day, and i question my version of reality every day as well. I'll probably give you a different answer tomorrow but I think that is ok too.


As always, I greatly appreciate your words and the time you took to write them.

[Art]

very nice Marie...praying for blessings, and peace....from within the breath of God...your prayer will be answered...nice....

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, Art, always a pleasure when you take time to read and comment. I think I need to tweak this oen a bit.. the reference to my lost friend and the references to the divine were connected that day, but separate events. The point io was tryign to make is that it weems the collective belief of closeness to God and thinning of the veil lets us in rerality reconnect with loved ones there, and reminds us of the blessing of being alive and open to grace in the rest of our lives.

[DrD]

Today is Revolution Day in Mexico and everyone is resting. Tonight will be the fireworks. We also observed the Day of the Dead and paid our respects in the graveyards with some tombs dated in the 1600s. It's good to relate with someone who "knows" and I deeply appreciated this work.

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, DrD. Hope you were able to enjoy the festivities. I greatly enjoyed your photos, too. Very reminiscent of places I work, actually. If i might ask... where are you staying? The photos of the town remind me of descriptions of San Cristobal de las Casaas.

[An owl on the moon]

Such a sacred, tenderly voiced write that beckons the heart to rise... Your prayer holds such longing for life to be found in the dance, and for today to mingle in all the yesterdays and forge a newfound freedom. Powerful and poignant, dear poet.

[Marie Anzalone]

thanks, dear omne... always always a joy to hear what you read in my words. The Day of the dead ikn Central Amercia is vibrant with a power of its own- it is a joy to behold, and also a tough mistress. I definitely was feeling a bit of it all the morning I wrote this. It makes my heart glad that you felt it in my writing.

[Tree]

An amazing experience put into words, no need to dissect a poem. Only to read it over. A beautiful description of a beautiful tradition. Thank you for sharing this

[Marie Anzalone]

I saw something yesterday, written here, as graffiti: "fall in love with peace." That seemed to capture the heart of things. Thanks for stopping by, my friend.

[Emily B]

bless you today and always

[Marie Anzalone]

thank you dear.. you as well

[gombeggar]

well done expression...things i know u hear...bet the vibrations are going right thru u

[Marie Anzalone]

Thanks, gombeggar... yes, as you know, I do feel it here... it has been a strange, mystical, and heady week for sure