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.