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Image for the poem Mama

Mama

I prepare the way open all channels an offering on the table
some salt to guard against wayward souls
my loved one is journeying from the netherworld
it is a difficult journey I bid she come to greet me for the last time
it is my will she be free in the eternal
some tequila should open the portal

as I sit among the tombs
listening to music
my own soul wanders
rising as smoke full of memories
the incense in the air is heady
it twirls with my being and I rise

I can see them my ancestors
traversing the immortal river that separates the living from the dead
singing songs of joy
they cross into the mortal realm

I can sense my mother's presence
I can feel her inside me
giving of her essence

I can smell her tamales
and some jasmine on the wind
I am transported to when I was a child
sitting in the rows of corn with her
picking the ears, separating silk from the corn
to pound it into maze later

the days were long, it was so hot
she would sing to me at night while bathing
she would cleanse the day's dirt away
and shoulder all my pain
my tummy full
I felt instantly lifted

it is a celebration of death
I toasted my mama
cross myself as she departs
tears streak my face

I feel renewed
she is at peace
she is a part of me
she gifted me all I ever need



Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Published
Author's Note
for the day of the dead comp.

option 1
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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