For the Mexican poet, Javier Sicilia, on his March for Peace and Justice
following the assassination of his son. And for the healing of Casa Mexico.
The poet leads the demonstration,
silently, on his feet.
Three days they walked together
in a solitude of hundreds,
who gave words from silent moments
between shudders - ni uno mas
of grief - no mas sangre.
From the high green mountains
to the valley of volcanoes
hundreds became millions walking,
walking as pilgrims in a labyrinth
through Mexico’s streets.
Where, in the great plaza,
the poet opened his voice to Casa Mexico
as a father at bedtime prayers
with his only child.
His rosary dangled on his chest.
So much weight, so much on a string of beads.
A heart placed in its crux hears and holds,
with room for our crimes, our petty altruisms
and our interims of beauty.
The poet walks.
We are several million walking,
and with our footsteps, words sway,
as our pendulum over the earth:
- paz y justica con dignidad,
Peace and Justice with Dignity.
[Translations: ni uno mas: not one more. no mas sangre: no more blood.
paz, justica y dignidad: peace, justice and dignity.]