I am an indigenous monarch
of Inca heritage
native of an immortal tribe.

The language of my blood
is a mixture of Quechua
and lacerated Spanish
that echoes in my mouth
before it erupts to sound like English
with a twist of mispronounced reality.

The legacy of my ancestors
speaks to me through the cracks of time
and the seeds of manzanilla
growing in my garden

The spirits of the earth rise with the wind
breaking the chains of silence
imposed by conquistadors
once upon a revolution.

I hear the voices from the past,
a past revealed to me in ancient dialects
that filter through my dark skin,
and through the fibers of my hair,
nest of reconciliation,
where secrets are braided into dreams,
as the Indian within me
awakens to sing
about freedom.

© 2008, Maria R. Palacios.
All rights reserved.


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