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Guatemala By Michael David Coffey Where are you princess in the volcanic skies Looking down on Atitlan -- its pure deep gray green Inviting my soul to dwell And live among the Mayan echoes A culture amid cultures in tradition's garb Ancient rituals and spirited independence Across the lake in Santa Catarina Among the merchants and the players We dallied and peered inward to that ancient way Where are you princess in the echoing cloisters Of an old Spanish church In Chichicastenango Old customs, time held rituals Kneeling, chanting rhymes to ancient gods and spirits heard Amid the flickering candles of Mother Mary's Church Ancient spirits, souls lingering in the dark corners of that white church On market day Where are you princess in the courtyard of that Spanish home In the cobbled streets lingering The strains of the marimba players And the languid caress of a tropical evening Bougainvilleas and passion flowers kissing my vision In the beauty of a Guatemalan dark blue sky And there, in the shadows My princess watches Where are you princess in the breaking dawn Gliding across the deep waters of Atitlan Are you in the market place Or at the water's edge Washing clothes and waiting for another day Or are you in my mind a vision lost in the strife and bullets Clinging to your existence But dying in the shadows of that church in Chichicastenango |
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Document last modified on: 07/23/2000