Black Hideous Mournings (María Whatever)


We pray for you, our Mother Tongue
dear Starving Earth, Forgotten Son
María Whatever.
To be heard, to let them know
where we are in this planet,
to ask them

where are we on history textbooks.
unanswered questions
unwhispered secrets
black hideous mournings
The Past Tense, in full meaning.

We sent our blood to meet you in the forest
dripping deep deep down into the woods
Shall the snow melt uncovering our accent
Shall this Earth recall its thirsty roots.

We hope our words rise shiny green
over the rotten soil on your graveyard
We hope the rain nurture our bones
and bring the colors back to this day.

Shall our voices crash     into the mountains
and greet your fears
drowned gently
by the river.

-Francisco Benavides