REVERIE of SAN MIGUEL de ALLENDE

 

The valley stretches peacefully ...
     guarded by the oval ridge of stalwart mountains.
San Miguel attaches itself, clinging all the way
     up the eastern slope, clutching rock ridges,
     with maze of colonial cobblestone streets,
      century-aged churches, and varied hues of
      terra-cotta Mexican buildings.
I perch ... wild and high - an eagle in her nest ...
     my window, my desk, my narrow rock ledge, guarded by
     aged iron terrace rail ... ablaze with hot crimson
     blossoms bursting from my jungle of crumbling clay pots.
Morning
Sunrise creeps up behind me ...
     magically  sweeping with golden brush the upper
     ridges of the mountain ... a glittering streak ...
     as if to say, "Wake up!  I'm here.  I bring the day!"
Evening
The bold majestic range beyond my valley
      deepens purple-black.
I gaze toward the edge of the world .... I fancy.
      God's fiery globe slides gently ... dropping
      downward to rest behind God's wall ... while
      twilight twirls her twinkling skirt ... as
     night slips on  the day's discarded dance shoes.
This cherished place ... my San Miguel de Allende
     How could I possibly be here?
     How long will I live on this Eden-cliffed mountain?
I'm like a woman who is afraid to give her heart completely,
     fearful of loss .. anticipating the pain of tomorrow's "good-bye."
Today, I breathe wise counself to my heart,
     "Release your ribbons of love ... wind them about this place
     hang your paintings on the waiting walls -
     succor your garden ... and sing your melodies  with joy.
God has surely hollowed me ...
     lifting my fractured heart and life to this mountainside sweetness
     where ever-changing beauty speaks of creation and eternity.
     to muse serene ... sheltered on cool garden terrace.
I listen  ... focused and content to live this precious day and hour -
      ancient walls and winding paths ... the very earth and sleeping souls
     whisper ancient secrets to my waiting heart
     allowing me to pen on page ...
     to capture in my humble way ...
    My Reverie of San Miguel.

 

Dallas Beth Williams Gibson

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