DATURA VENENOSA

To Bluff, Utah, USA

Devil’s apple, ghost flower.
Witch’s thimble, demon’s grass.
Feminine, Saturn, Water.
Dreams and protection.
Undone of malefic experiences.
Sacred plant of the Aztecs.
Source of unknown energies
and hallucinations.
Extremely poisonous.
Not a toy, but an instrument.
Crazy apple, Lucifer’s weed.
Do you believe
in everything you think?

Listen carefully.
Language is not enough.
The mind is corrupted.
The body decays.
Her voice is a whisper.
Do you see all these rocks
kissing the water of the San Juan River?
They are yours, she says.
Do you see the cotton trees,
the snake and the sage brush?
They are yours, she insists.
Come, come up the hill to be with me.
Come, and I will teach you how to fly.
Nature gave me what you do not have.
Don’t be afraid.
Everything is changing.

Climb, climb the hill
and let the aroma of my pistil
enjoy the moon of your mind.
Do you see my black hair,
and my brown eyes?
I am all over this land.
Natural forces induce changes.
Come, be with me among the stones.
Taste the nectar of my petals,
and I will show you the door
into the valley of the gods.
I will share with you the unavoidable
path of destruction and death.

Do you see how the electrons dance
on the leaves of the juniper and pinion trees?
The moon’s light penetrates the dark mud
where the catfish nest and feed.
A Dine drum invites all living beings.
Tonight Peyote will let you return.
To teach us your song of death.
And let us pass into another dream.

© 2007 Héctor Ahumada