Going forward we may go back in time

The hand of the divine could withdraw

At any time

And we would be left in the hills

With our goats and hidden gardens

Or root grubbing and hunting lizards

Or some such varmints


Sweating out the summers

Freezing in the falls

Dying in the winters

Consumption consuming all

That are called


Shamans may escape for a time

Walk among the gods

If they walk high enough

The demons can not trod them down


God men and saviors

Will come at appointed times

Pure despair and simple joy

Descend and ascend

Lives are lived  in pure love

Sometimes in pure crime


And the civilized have had their time

Nations are denatured

The tribes will have their day

I, for one, believe in what they say.


Author: Edgardo

Born in Houston, Texas and moved to Raymondvile, Texas in 1969. Family bought a radio station and helped with the family business until it was sold in 1997. Since then started an agency and mostly writes about experiences in Deep South Texas. Writers of the Rio Grande founder, editor and contributing author.


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