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Llorona Chronicles

By Francisca Verduzco

Papito, oh how I wish you could sit with me in my classes and learn and feed yourself
I see it in you, tus ganas de aprender
Me dices que
“Si yo fuera ido a la escuela estuviera más chingon”
Pero papi, tu me has enseñado tanto. Cosas que no se aprenden en la escuela.
“Si amor siembras, amor cosecharas”
Mira tu jardín, mira y siente el amor.
If you listen closely you can hear me and my sister’s roots growing stronger.
Tu mismo plantaste  las semillas.

Mami, you tell me you live through me. Pero Mami,
Tus consejos los leo en mis lecturas y me siento muy orgullosa and lucky to be your daughter. You are the base of everything. Eres vida. Eres amor.
One phone call and you bring me back, one phone call
And you remind me of where I come from.
Vengo del jardín, tu jardín con todas tus plantitas
“Hablales bonito para que crezcan y florezcan, ponles musica bonita”
Mirame madre, I am blooming because of your tenderness.
I spend my days dancing.

I walk through this university finding comfort knowing my parents walked this too.
Their prayers are protecting me.
I think about the redwood trees, and my father reminding me
To appreciate their presence and wisdom.
“Recuerda abrazar a los árboles, te darán su sabiduría”
Whenever my sadness comes around, one look out the window
And I am reminded that I am not alone. All the trees have their stories too.  When I sit in class, my ancestors sit besides me. Rooting for me.

I carry them on my back.