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IN MEMORIUM: ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF JUAN’S PASSING
El CONDOR PASA
Sitting under an old tree in the center of Machu Pichu
I await the elders to visit me and give me guidance.
The world seems more in harmony at these alturas.
The low hanging clouds provide much needed rain, shade, and an air of omniscience.
From my vantage point I see a mother caress her ill daughter.
I also see lovers sneaking a peck atop old stairs previously used by Inca royalty.
I enter the Temple of the Condor and find myself mesmerized
by the overgrowth of ferns.... greens, reds, and silver.
Nature has reclaimed this area; the condor's wings are embedded
in years of hardened soil.
But enough remains to understand the nature of the being.
On the smoothened tail sit two lovers wearing brightly colored ponchos
..... feeling the power of the condor.
I'm feeling at peace with myself, eagerly awaiting the second part of my life
..... happy to be able to repeat the process.
Anxious to return!
I feel blessed, not como un santo, pero como un místico!
Ruego por todos.... Raul, Anjela, Mary Jane, Carmen, Gloria, Joelle,
Marcie, Estevan, Francisco y Irene... que el condor les dé alas a nuestra
palabras, que todos tengamos espíritu, magnitud, y verdad....
y que toquemos muchos corazónes.
Ruego por mi familia..... que les dé fortaleza y salud.
Ruego por el guero, que le dé juicio para entender que ambo amor es eterno.
Ruego por mis amistades.... Carlos, Cecilia, Ana ....
que les dé abundancia en sus vidas.
El Condor me entra; El condor me sale.
Lo siento entre mi cuerpo.... me provoca, me hace llorar,
me hace pedir perdón
Me toca como nadie más me ha tocado.
I am the Condor..... Yo soy el Condor.
No tengo alas pero puedo tocar a los que más afectan a mi vida
Los puedo cubrir con amor eterno para que siempre sepan que estoy con ellos
I cry for those who can not accept their destiny
and my heart opens for the poets, the painters, the musicians and the dancers,
porque ellos son las voces, los ojos, los oídos
y el ritmo de nuestra gente.
Mi lindo Condor, espero que cuando sea tiempo,
tú me lleves a tales alturas
en tus alas de oro. Que sólo tú atraviesas los dos mundos.
— Juan Ochoa
(June, 2000)
Juan Ochoa, a beloved one-year member of Austin Hispanic Writers,
passed away on June 30th, 2000. He wrote the above poem just days
before he left this world; he had just returned from a special trip to Peru.
We miss his optimistic spirit and infectious laugh,
but we’ll always have his gift of words to remind us of him.
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A Review by Courtney O'Banion
(Editor of Poethead — an online newsletter, Austin Texas)
AWAKENING, 67 pp, Little Piggy Press
Opening the cover of Awakening, the new anthology from the Austin Hispanic Writers,
is like opening the lid of a trunk handed down from grandma, or a box in the back
of your closet forgotten about and just found again. Awakening is a realization,
an earthy attentiveness to how a discovery, a loss, or a lack of something can define
who we are. The prose and poetry in this collection are just as diverse as the writers
themselves. Even so, almost every piece in Awakening expresses an awareness and
deference to the author's heritage. These bicultural/bilingual writers show, despite
ethnicity, and native tongue, just what it means to possess two traditions in one body.
Although knowledge of Spanish adds a savory dimension to this collection, it is not
necessary. As Irene Lara Silva says in "Freedom: Second Poem": 'el corazón no
conoce idioma.'
(Review appeared in Poetheads Vol. 27; Dec. 20, 2000)
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