A poem by Carol Morales…

…to her Xolo, Tamazula………….

My Tamazula
By God’s provision and my dear friend’s kindness,
you have come to my house,
the place where my parents raised me,
the place where I have spent
nearly three decades of my life.
Can you imagine what that means to me?
You are from the country where,
though my roots are not planted,
my branches reach out
–my Mexico!
–though neither of us have spent many days there.
There you have never ventured, that I know of,
and I, only three times.
Is it because your line is ancient?
How I love your breed’s long history,
–full of wisdom that experience bestows.
…or your knowing:
when my Flor, your cousin, went home…
and how I grieved!
…you grieved with me,
and told me so, with your long, low moan,
as you sank your head into my chest!
Do you know what that meant to me?
God, I love you!
And you came to me at nine and a half years, most of your life spent
–and well spent it was!
You are Mama three times! How I love you for that, my Tamazula!
Your splendid line will go on!
Such a future will come!
You are with me.