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Mark Lecuona Jan 2017
(slaves)

we are a conquered people
but we walk freely as servants
our masters are not at peace
for they know what they do
yet before us they stand
as we weep for our loss
or exult over our victory
and though they are of Caesar

we give that which is God

(supper)

we wash in the headwaters
the water that cleanses my soul
we harvest the vineyards
the wine that became my blood
we cast seeds into the fields
the bread that is my body
we listen to their promises
but a voice became the word

we cannot speak of the image
the ritual looks not upon idols

(kolam)

she made chalk from rice fields
all are invited except evil spirits
lines and circles for prosperity
tomorrow another will be drawn

(death)

is there injustice
speak to me
purify myself
non-violence

until the bullet says no more

(resurrection)

she drew two needles
two needles that cross
two needles that mend
the eyes cast no stone

(desire)

they wear only robes
all desire has passed
the moon guides them
upon waters with no home

(pilgrimage)

seven circles against time
kissing and touching stone
prayers where they stand
drink water from the well

(incorporeal)

how to describe the ocean
to a baby that cannot swim
when we cannot see the edge
nor all that lives within its womb?
all we can do is reap its harvest
by drawing fish in the sand
removing them from the nets
and from baskets made full

(love)

no heaven can accept my sin
no hell can accept my goodness
i can only tell you how I feel
though what I see is you
and what I know is me
you have become like the stars
as beautiful and distant
as grace is to a man like me

— The End —