Crucifix & Candlelight

In the necropolis    
there is no life after sundown      
Branches weigh heavy    
with its slumber    
     
Here at the ofrenda    
we wait for the heart of it    
amid sugar skulls    
and old photographs    
     
Course salt laid out as a cross    
to purify and cleanse    
providing courage to remain      
and alter a memory    
     
This is the part where we tread    
gently, knowing the past is present    
camouflaged in the thick space    
of enveloping incense    
wafting specters, shape shifting      
within the lobes of our lungs    
     
Some cannot imagine what we do    
To them, it’s a horror movie    
set in the cemetery at night    
relying on a false sense of safety    
by crucifix and candlelight    
tamales and Corona with lime      
     
But memories are altered that way    
not by vigilance at a grave    
No, altering memory is not a game    
nor a returning spirit, screaming    
the history of our mistakes    
     
It's a homecoming rending the veil    
and we're waiting for the meat of it:    
A return to peace through presence    
as though we never lost it    
     
It's making amends with Death    
the dark Archangel of mystery    
presenting a bowl of cherries    
Their boney pits wielding power    
to poison us    
     
The wise chew slowly, savoring    
Azrael's offering, swallowing      
the flesh, commending the bones      
back unto the Earth    
     
How else can we learn    
that something so sweet    
at heart is a bitterly tart truth  
resembling a blood offering    
pooling between our lips    
     
And we give thanks