sharing a most beautiful poem, 'Zacuanpapalotls' by Brenda Cardenas
We are space between-
the black-orange blur
of a million Monarchs
on their two-generational migration
south to fir-crowned Michoacan
where tree trunks will sprout feathers,
a forest of paper-thin wings.
Our Mexica cocooned
in the membranes de la Madre Tierra
say we are reborn zacuanpapalotls,
mariposas negras y anaranjadas
in whose sweep the dead whisper.
We are between-
the flicker of a chameleon's tail
that turns his desert-blue backbone
to jade or pink sand,
the snake-skinned fraternal twins
of solstice and equinox
The ashen dawn, silvering dusk,
la oracion as it leaves the lips,
the tug from sleep,
the glide into dreams
that husk out mestizo memory.
one life passing through the prism
of all others, gathering color and song,
cempazuchil and drum
to leave a rhythm scattered on the wind,
dust tinting the tips of fingers
as we slip into our new light.