by LJ Frank
lodged between land and sea –
Guatemala to the west
El Salvador to the southwest
and Nicaragua to the south
the Caribbean Sea to the north
and with a southern touch to the Pacific
Honduras, a lush, tropical mood,
an escape route of diverse images
where a Catholic theology weaved its textures
one wonders if a faith outweighs reason,
but what does a person depend on
if not their belief and rituals
justice overwhelmed, wealth a tool,
humor, song, dance – a trade wind
and poverty for one, violates all
embedded within passionate verse,
sipping from tribal cups
thy neighbor is an allegory –
tell the whole story or don’t tell it,
not in bits and pieces
for thoughts emanate from the mind
a sensual breath becomes a release,
the hues of existence births wile to survive –
to be whole implies an androgynous spirit,
as macho is a tatuaje falso on the soul
while language is the fount of grace –
for she knows deep within
words can wear longer than clothes,
with smiling lips of acceptance
bearing an immeasurable gift
but empathy is hard to come by
for jungles have enigmatic faces,
the heat and humidity leach courage,
and the heart may find after years of struggle,
that it is, a lonely, homeless child –
to be held and caressed
with the endearing act of compassion.