The Patron Saint Likes it Loud

At dawn all week
the Mariachis make their brassy music fly
while fireworks explode.
Cohetes’ boom excites
my Mexican resident heartbeat.
And now the strident tincan rattle
of the giant garbage truck
rolls its signal down my street.

Great Mother Mexico
feeds my ears, fills my soul
and frees me to allow
all the sounds to merge.
I am steadied by the silver horns
and anchored by the golden trumpets.
I embrace my sorrows,
and lift my exultations to the rising sun.

Then the wings of hummingbirds,
here at my patio feeder,
hum between the threads
of all the loud and lovely rumpus.
The beating of their fairy wings
carries the rest of the clangor
past the simply stirring–
into a magic dimension.

And suddenly I hear my voice
call out the grito of life!

©Susa Silvermarie 2021