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As Semana Santa begins here in Mexico, our town population swells from near 50,000 to over 100,000 with the Meridanos coming out to use their ‘summer’ homes. Most of these sit idle for the rest of the year except for 6 weeks in summertime. Our tranquility is shattered by the celebrations as families get together, much like going to a cottage in Canada or the USA. Music plays well into the night, voices chatter endlessly, cars pass in steady streams. This is our reality! In one more week we will return to normal…which is what I have tried to capture in the poem this week.

Tranquility

Midnight in a Mexican seaside town,
A single stray dog
Ambles down the centre of the dirt road,
Mindless of traffic,
For there is no traffic.
An occasional bird chirps
In the arboles alemendres, unseen,
Overhead, nary a star can be seen
In the black midnight sky.
Fishing boats are anchored offshore
At the end of the road,
Waiting for the dawn.
Occasionally a cucaracha scrambles
Across the sidewalk,
Otherwise,
All is still.
For a brief moment,
You feel totally at peace,
And then a motorcycle passes
In the distance,
Breaking the silence,
And you realize that somewhere,
Perhaps several blocks away,
There is another person, like yourself,
Believing at the same moment,
The world is a truly tranquil place.

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This is one of my unpublished poems done earlier this year. One of my beliefs in life is that out of the darkness of our lives comes light. At some point or another we all need to go into the darkness, however it long it takes us, and then return to the light of our current existence. This is not a form of depression, simply a coping mechanism that I find useful…

Dawn

 

Many people in this world

See the dawn emerge

Much like a newborn child –

Bursting out of the darkness

Into the light of another day,

Full of innocence, promise, hope,

Surrounded by more than enough

Of His love

For any one person.

 

Others see Dawn

Never emerging into the light.

The darkness of the night follows them

Throughout the new day –

No hope, no promise, innocence forever lost

In times and years gone by.

 

What we can choose

Is to experience the Dawn

As the former –

Emerging into our own light,

Creating our own promise,

Returning to that time

When we saw all around us

As wondrous, exciting, fulfilling.

A new Dawn,

Of our own making,

Surrounded by limitless love.

 

 

This is hardly a poem you can appreciate if you are back in the North. Here in Yucatan, it has started to happen once again, as Semana Santa (Holy Week) nears. Meridanos flock to their beach homes and Progreso grows from 25,000 to upwards of 50,000 or more! Early on I came to understand the significance of “Let sleeping dogs lie” as in the coming days every parked car becomes a haven from the heat for our furry friends…

Heat

In the heat of the Mexican sun,

Dogs sleep, as do their masters.

Heat, omnipotent, oppressive.

Infrequent daytime breezes

Waft through the fibres of their hammocks,

Cooling only so slightly, only so briefly.

 

Trees and birds are stilled.

Only the ocean waves move in the mid-day sun.

Siestas are the norm –

Momentary relief.

Patiently sunset is awaited,

But even then the heat remains,

Mucho calor!

Families take to the streets

Outside their meager homes –

Too warm to yet sleep,

They mingle and commiserate,

Until, finally, sleep beckons.

Tossing and turning,

Sleep.

Waking in a new tomorrow,

In the heat of another sun,

One more day…