Caminitos
The pathways of my thoughts are cobbled with
mesquite blocks
and narrow-winding,
long and aged like the streets of
san fernando de bexar
y la villa real de san antonio
pensive
y callados
cada uno con su chiste
idiosyncracy
crazy turns
that are because they are,
centuries magic
cada uno hecho así,
y with a careful
capricho touch,
así.
They curl slowly into ripples,
earthy and cool like the Río Medina
under the trees
silently singing, standing still,
and flowing, becoming,
became
and always as always
still fertile, laughing, loving,
alivianada
Río Medina
under the trees,
celebrating life.
They end up in the monte, chaparral,
llenos de burrs, spurs
pero libres
Running through the hills freefoot
con aire azul
blue breaths peacefully taken
between each lope
remembering venado
remembering conejos
remembering
where
we came from
Copyright Credit: Carmen Tafolla, "Caminitos" from Curandera. Copyright © 2012 by Carmen Tafolla. Reprinted by permission of Wings Press.
Source: Curandera (Wings Press, 2012)