Daily Service

author’s note:

I wrote this poem after reading John Bierhorst’s Mythology of Mexico and Central America.  But this story can not be found in that excellent book.


DAILY SERVICE

Who can account
for the origin
of the sun?

Such events just
don’t happen
by accident.

Obviously,
our great hero

--Latolatapu--

broke his skull open
on the great mountain
of stone at the edge
of the world--

due to the ants
that had infested
his ears
looking for corn--

he struck his head
so hard the corn
finally burst out
in a grand eruption
of golden fire--

that propelled Latolatapu
to the top of our sky.

His sister tracks him,
day after day--
trying to cool him,
night after night--
she is the moon--
she is Totamapua.

She knows he wishes to remain
alone with his wound,
day after day--
so she never comes too close,
night after night.

As she cries her tears
empty from one eye socket
to fill up
the other eye socket--

so we see the moon go
from lean to full
then back again--

just as on earth, we gain
as we continue to lose.

The people watch and wonder
if Moon Sister will ever
join with Sun Brother--her husband, her father,
her son, her lover--

whose anger burns the sky,
whose ferocity powers our lives,
whose heart feeds our plants and trees,
whose madness dries
our soil, our crops.

At the end of the day,
his great fire finally gives up,
then he wanders in darkness
through the night, fighting
to find his reason--with only
Totamapua’s light to guide him.

One day, he’ll heal his wound,
one day, he’ll heal us.
One day, we’ll heal his wound,
one day he’ll heal us.

Moon Sister knows
that in truth, it is he
that follows her--

so she waits for the day
when he’ll realize his need--
so she waits for the day
when he’ll confess his need.

One day she’ll heal his wound.
One day she’ll heal us.

© 2008, Michael R. Patton
dream steps
difficult-listening poetry