Guadalupe

Guadalupe in the window,

bleeding heart and tortured smile 

of silent suffering,

peers through tattered curtains

absolving the sins 

of the world.

Candle at the alter

summons images 

of those since passed

to dance on walls 

in ghostly light.

She dreams,

the weight of absolution gone.

The city’s roar; crashing waves,

choking heat and stale air; the smell of sea and wind.

Hearts and letters drawn in sand,

but lovers never there

when waves wash them away

as she walks the beach alone.

Guadalupe in the window,

parchment aged and color worn

from years of nightly petition,

peers through tattered curtains

absolving the sins 

of the world.

Ken Owen,  Van Niddy Music,  July 2012