Sierra Madre,
the open coast still days away.
Riding with the sunset behind me
for Guerrero before the sun rise.
The darkness came
moving in like a thick blanket of fog.
Innocence, waning and thrashing
succumbed to the Evil.
Political regimes, one to the other,
unjustified madness trickling down,
a house without a keeper,
exposed us to all that prevailed.
More than my eyes could take
I fled without shame to the desert
Every sound, every shadow underfoot
hastened my delivery.
Among tumbleweeds marked in a different time,
leaving me standing in a locust wind
left empty by the shadows of twilight
she went lame in the night.
In front of me stood a Cathedral
thirty feet high by the lighted torch.
The tower without a bell
to honor God in this soulless town.
Old wooden pews undisturbed, covered in cobwebs,
the roof above opened for the stars to peek in.
No thatch or mud for years it seems.
Would he dwell within this darkness?
“Drink my loyal friend,
I will gather what this desert has to offer
to feed your strength,
rest to heal your troubled stride.”
On the Alter I prayed, not for vengence,
but for the souls of Iguala.
The sounds of my dying home
crying into the night.
A brilliant light arose from the Alter.
So sharp were the shards
I had to turned my eyes away.
I tried to move yet fear would not allow it.
An Angel appeared
saying unto me “do not fear
for the Son of man has sent me,
You will lead his children into this desert.”
The wind pricked up
peace so serene, ran through me
filling this grieving soul
I felt the ocean calm miles away.
From above
I witnessed a door open in the light
the sounds of 1,000 thundering horses
came to this old Cathedral.
A bell rang out! The chime stirred the wind
it’s rich sounds rippled of Red and Gold,
that smoothed over the landscape
reaching every where a sound could be heard.
My mare healed, dressed in silver and gold.
Freedom’s ride, in the hour of atonement,
a witness to the impending wrath
surrounded by the Army of God.
Dressed in armor fired by his hand
more brilliant by anything I’d ever seen.
We rode above ground, upon the night.
Lightening and Thunder were the sounds
of 1000 horses impaling the darkness.
Gabriel reached for the sword…
Iguala burning, mothers weeping in the streets
Evil lurked with eyes, black as the deepest sin.
Black as the anger that lurks inside
shame clouded my vision, falling to the ground below.
The bell tolled and the world listened
darkness fell in the wake of light.
Surrounding the town, with their heavenly presence
brilliant light bled through the smallest cracks,
every darkened corner transformed by the Holy army.
The enemy’s waning cry would not live through the hour.
Cradling her lifeless son, a woman on her knees
drenched his young body in tears.
With all she had to offer, she cried for his breath
a prayer of hope through the eyes of misery.
Placing my fingertips on her quivering lips
upon my gilded mare I pulled him to my chest,
listening in this walk of faith
riding for the hallowed innocence.
In the Cathedral
placing him gently on the alter.
I cried in prayer to Jesus
“let him feel the freedom of Calvary.”
I turned back to beguile the locust wind
Iguala, the place of my birth
now a smoldering haze on the desert floor.
Every wanting eye turned to me.
Following the chiming bell,
I led the people away,
with nothing more than faith.
How was I to see what would be done?
The sun broke over the tower
the bell rang in the day.
The Cathedral stood new,
transformed by the Father’s hand.
We entered, kneeling at the alter
to thank the Son of God,
a child rose slowly turning,
sobbing in disbelief, she ran to embracing him.
Rejoicing in tears, it left me shaking.
All things in this new day reborn.
My living testament etched
by the blood of the lamb.
Hewn with the finest oak
the rooftop felt the falling rain,
the changing desert revealed,
a longing to come to life again.
For every ear to listen to the sound of my voice
I have seen what has died and been reborn.
The spirit of the first harvest yielded
in the dreams that live in the sons of farmers.
Intuitively, I know I've lived many lifetimes, and none more interesting than the one I'm living now. However, being born an old soul somehow did not excuse me from the same job I share with you and that is learning to craft a positive attitude about
A story with original photography, digital art, and illustration, about Son of Waves, 12 Dolphins to save the planet, David The Visionary on the beach in Tel Aviv, a digital messiah, and an internet of Love. Free PDF download.
