Lago Da Preta
With water from aquifers,
deep within the rock of The Holy Cross,
where these holy waters first see the Light of Day,
is where we converge and I submerge my gold chain,
between darkness and light,
where Lago De Preta is filled,
I quench my thirst for redemption,
with hands cupped in prayer,
I carry the water from the ceramic spout,
to the waiting lips of my mouth,
I drink these holy waters,
to replenish that which the vampires have drained,
they took more than I offered them,
but I suppose so goes the burden of every saint,
we give and we give and we give,
so that hopefully through our blessings they can be saved,
and all this giving is tiring,
so I’ve come to this sanctuary of Lago Da Preta,
to drink these holy waters from this holy mountain,
to which I was gratefully and thankfully divinely led,
so hopefully I too can be saved,
by these cleansing waters,
at this circular stone aqua alter,
covered in soft green moss and prayers,
I’ve taken my shoes off,
as we all should at any temple,
I’ve confessed my sins here,
in hopes of redemption,
I give thanks for,
this moment of peace in this Garden of Pena,
at this sanctuary in this forest,
here before us is the Lago Da Preta,
I give thanks,
because moments of refuge care priceless,
in a world that’s gone mad,
I hope I can redeem us with words so I write this,
and I send these poetic letters,
from here because I don’t think I’m coming back,
I’m at,
Lago a Preta,
a place made in honor of a mysterious black saint,
created with sea shells and volcanic rock and dedicated faith,
the saint,
is mysterious because her origins are unknown,
so we can only speculate,
and I’d speculate that she was probably a saint of the Moors,
and it was probably a beautiful statue that stood here,
and it was probably destroyed by white Conquistadors,
the same mind frame vein that made Jesus white,
and made Morocco a place settled by the Moors,
the statue was likely removed,
for the same reason the Great Sphinx lost it’s nose,
for the same reason so many statues are defaced,
and it’s an atrocity but I suppose that’s just the way it goes,
because history seems to be written,
by those that do the most sinning,
and it’s tragically ironic,
that those that sin the most do the most winning,
and lately in history most of the winners have been white,
but still I pray in front of an alter erected to a black saint,
because I believe that God doesn’t see people by color,
I believe God sees people by intentions and actions,
and I am proud and excited but at this very moment I am humbled,
I am grateful,
I dip my gold chain and my mala beads in this infinite elixir,
water so ******,
it could **** those energy ******* vampires,
sometimes just restin’ is the best medicine,
sometimes it helps to just remove your shoes and pray,
sometimes it’s best to get away from all the clamor,
sometimes you can find a place of peace like I have today,
I pray,
between darkness and light,
where Lago De Preta is filled,
I quench my thirst for redemption,
with hands cupped in prayer,
and I write,
with hands still wet from holy waters,
from deep within the rock of The Holy Cross,
I write in hopes these words will be found,
so that all of humanity will cease to be hopelessly lost…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
