Dearest Perfect Mango

Dearest perfect mango
on the highest branch,
though I cannot reach you,
my poet’s soul is fed
by your ripened flame.
From my hammock vantage,
I contemplate your magic
while it happens.
and the simple sight of you
quiets all my hungers.

Tonantzin Has My Back

In the grotto at Tonaltonko1,
waist deep in her thermal waters,
I leaned against her form
on the wall of the ancient cave.
Resting my head between
her vast stone breasts,
to Tonantzin I surrendered
my weight and my heavy heart.

Her form on the wall was a poem,
and when I pressed my back against her,
it spoke its meaning within me.
Her hieroglyph in bas-relief
sent its message echoing
all along my bones.
Forgive the past.
Move forward, forward.

 Great Mother Tonantzin2,
whose temple at Tepeyac
became the shrine of Guadalupe,
spoke in my bones at Tonaltonko.
There in the dark of her cave,
the Goddess of Light
bathed me, forgave me, immersed me
in epiphanies and grace–

and propelled me out to share her love.

©Susa Silvermarie 2017

1 Aztec name for area presently known as Tolantongo: canyon river and caves in Hidalgo, Mexico

2 In classical Aztec mythology and among present-day Nahuas, Tonantzin is an honorific title meaning Our Lady or Great Mother, from to, nuestro; nāntli, madre; tzīntli, reverential diminuitive. She was worshipped at her temple on Tepeyac Hill, Mexico City, and much later, in 1531, reappeared there as Our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin (the talking eagle).

Only a Cup of Tea

It was only a cup of tea,
but someone else, my neighbor,
made it for me when I was sick,
and brought it to me.
It was the herb estafiate
picked high in these mountains
by her housekeeper Rosi’s brother.
It was only a cup of tea,
though the cure
was deeper than the medicine.
Unasked, a gift from another
who saw me, who cared,
I was alone
in my new country, unwell,
wondering what might unfold,
too green to have found a doctor,
or to have turned in my history
at the Red Cross ambulance post,
or to have signed up
for the national insurance.
It was only a cup of tea,
my condition not acute,
and I was already out of bed.
But when she brought it,
when she sat with me
and when I sipped it,
all the kindness in the world
flowed down my throat
and poured its healing into me.         ©Susa Silvermarie 2017

gracias a mi vecina Martha

Morning Affair



The palm tree winked.
I looked again.
A solo palm in the distance,
rising above buildings—
yes, glittering.

Sunlight hung tinsel,
golden, on its fronds.
And in the breese,
its glitz waved flutter-sun
my way.

What flicker! What flash!
I waved back, of course.
The palm, a-sparkle,
and I, a-dazzled,
conducted our morning affair.

©Susa Silvermarie 2017