" The Language of Life"
is one of my favorite books
and if I were a teacher
of Contemporary American Literature
or of Creative Writing
I would surely choose it
for required reading.
But things have turned out
differently
and I am but an unknown
poet
testifying the truth,
bearing witness
to this undeclared war
this chilling reality of massacre unchecked
here, in Ciudad Juárez.
And I remember the Salvadoran poet,
Claribel Alegria,
that she writes in this book
of " planting angels"
and how the interviewer, Bill Moyers
puzzles at the phrase
and then her explanation-
that in her country, in addition
to planting coffee,
they also " plant angels"
referring to children buried
their young souls innocent
hence- " angels."
And I realize that here too,
in Juarez,
in this parched desert earth
earth that yields but little- cotton, sunflowers for seed,
we plant angels ...
Children caught in the crossfire
like the 4- year old girl
slain with her mother
just last Saturday...
And I remember too,
reading in criminology
that the necessary elements of a crime
are means and motive
but I wonder what motive
is there for the slaughter of innocents?
I only know that here, we plant angels
and this madness reaps a bitter harvest-
a harvest of tears and despair.