The Angel of the South
The Angel of the North
broods beside the motorway
past and future
brought into the present
vast arms wingspread
a past of glory, a future of hope,
when I saw the Angel of the North.
brooding witness over the border crossing
rework the barriers
wrought into a sign of peace
witness above us the arms widespread
“Come to me all you who are weary”
standing besides the coyotes’ spotters
the smugglers on the hill
overlooking the border
but watching the crossers
south with nothing
but what is in their hands,
north with nothing to declare,
but a few cervezas under the belt,
or a 150 Fords in the railcars
or a memory of the people with nothing
in their hands but beans and rice
and a memory of welcome at el comedor.
El comedor del Kino is a place of welcome
where people fetch up on the shore
of exile, newly deported from el Norte.
Now they have someone
who at least speaks their language
but speaks the universal sign-language of peace
a plate of food
a chance to be human to human
rather than one to be expelled
across the barriers.
So I want to see the Angel of the South
from fending off
sky-witness to a new horizon
a border crossing of hope not fear.
© September 19, 2014.