Avatars

Robert René Galván

 
 

As the stones

rose toward

the Morning Star

in the vanquished jungle

a prophecy

was born

in a contentious

land

across the sea

where he

was mounted

like a butterfly

to dry

in the desert

sun,

that centuries

hence

he made

his way

with poachers

and zealots

to a sinking city

where temples

were altered

to house

his relics:

a shard

of cedar,

his mother’s

likeness

struck fast

on Juan Diego’s

tilmátli

the goddess’

altar rendered

with looted

blocks,

the old ones’

faces still

in relief;

columns

will stand

until usurped

by a visitor

from another

world.