Page 41 - The_Lizard
P. 41
To my grandmother Carmen.
Beyond the mountain ranges
that rise like pieces of paper
there in the land of cocoa and crystal rivers
my grandmother was born.
Too tempestuous
to continue being a nun
you filled yourself with books and flowers
teaching, your power.
Not the dictatorship
nor the crisis
nor the roar of war
could reach your soul.
Show me how to be
serene but fierce
powerful but sensitive
a seawall before sand.
Even in the city
you kept painting valleys.
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