“My chest is a morning glory,
“My song a porous rock,
“My soul, a dandelion
“The wind tears and blows away.”
The Chinelos danced to the Sacred Mountain.
The Dragonfly called the Deer
She prayed to the Corn God.
The Owl opened the door.
The Corn was born.
The flute player called the budgerigar
My heart was a spider
The harvest of the Dead came
The warrior whispered to the feathered serpent
The feathered snake was asleep and paid no heed
Ixchel went back to the water.
The mason stopped weaving the houses
The red maiden was blind
The Dragon came out for the Black swan.
All photographs taken late December in Tepoztlán, at the foot of the Sacred Mountain.
What we are living through is a “Black Swan.” If you haven’t yet, read Nassim Nicholas Taleb.