CROSSING OVER  (2-13-03, border between Laredo, Texas & Nuevo Laredo, Mexico)

   
crossing over  
south    
of the border    
out of    
northern disorder    
into old    
southern landscapes    
new      
unknown    
unseen to me    
till now    
some covered    
with dirt    
and trash    
the accumulative    
residual    
side effects    
of generations    
of so much    
disconnected humanity    
as well as    
others    
of seemingly    
untouched    
even greater    
vast vistas    
of natural beauty    
where    
life seems    
as adamantly strong    
as resiliently    
persistent    
as stone    
risen up    
through all    
the barren dust    
of dirt    
heat and bones    
here    
where    
each face    
and soul    
is a living    
legacy    
of genetic survival    
of the    
countless poor    
yet culturally strong    
here    
where    
the apparent    
disrespect    
of some  
of the land    
has perhaps    
somehow become    
a necessary    
cultural thing here    
an ongoing    
history    
where    
so much proud    
blood    
has been    
squeezed out    
from each rock    
each stone    
from each passing    
life    
from each new    
life born    
from each precious    
drop by drop    
of sweat    
and blood    
from every    
little bit    
of raw    
dry earth here    
from so many    
generations    
of hard    
noble work    
fueled solely    
by the proud    
invincible    
strength and power    
of faith    
family    
and historical    
identity    
where the visible    
poverty    
of so much    
lack    
and depletion    
has more character    
and soul    
in its depths    
than is first    
apparent    
on the surface    
of many things    
in life here    
where tough    
human dignity    
shines through    
the simplicity    
of what    
at first    
may easily be    
mistaken    
as scarcity    
as evidenced    
expressed and seen    
paradoxically    
at times    
between forms    
of both ramshackle    
and classical    
beauty alike    
between    
the aesthetically pleasing    
balance    
and dance    
of both    
natural    
and bright colors    
everywhere    
in the contrasts    
the rich    
history    
the surreal    
surprises    
and mystery    
but especially    
in the hearts    
spirits and smiles    
of these people    
themselves    
which all awaits    
around    
almost every    
curve    
corner    
street  doorway    
building    
and hill here    
in this    
far too brief    
journey    
my necessary    
adventure    
taken    
to recharge    
regroup    
reground    
to nurture    
inspire    
and heal    
my numbed out    
mind    
and senses    
my burnt out    
near jaded    
northern
fatigued sensitivity    
to refresh    
the dulled perspective    
of my own    
heart    
and eyes    
through all these    
unexpected    
free gifts    
of simple    
harmony    
balance    
wonder    
and gratitude    
for what    
i have    
and for what    
i do    
and do not    
want    
to take back    
with me    
to see    
to feel    
or have    
or hold    
in my life    
my mind    
and heart    
when i much    
too soon    
here now    
must return    
back home    
up from which    
this thoughts    
realization    
arises this sudden    
question    
in me    
wherein    
i ponder    
and can only    
wonder    
on just which    
side of    
that man made    
border    
do i    
newly perhaps    
presently    
both feel    
and perceive    
exists    
the greater    
true wasteland    
of man    
to which    
the answer seems    
much clearer    
to me    
here now    
for after    
all things considered    
ive come to    
feel    
see    
and believe    
in my mind    
my spirit    
and heart    
that it exists    
far more on    
the other    
side    
the side    
i came over    
here from    
the side    
and dysfunctional    
world    
i was    
born in    
live in    
and have always    
known    
as home    
it is that    
wasteland    
i too soon    
now    
must leave    
this relative    
simpler life    
this other
beautiful land
and world    
comparatively
a virtual   
heaven    
for
sadly
here yet
again