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Pat Mora’s Lessons

Lesson one

The desert is powerless

when thunder shakes the hot air

and unfamiliar raindrops slide

on rocks, sand, mesquite,

when unfamiliar raindrops overwhelm

her, distort her face.

But after the storm, she breathes deeply,

caressed by a fresh sweet calm.

My Mother smiles rainbows.

When I feel shaken, powerless

to stop my bruising sadness,

I hear My Mother whisper:


don’t fear your hot tears

cry away the storm, then listen, listen.

Lesson two

Small, white fairies dance

on the Rio Grande. Usually they swim

Deep through their days and nights

hiding from our eyes but when the white

sun pulls them up, up

they leap about, tiny shimmering stars.

The desert says: feel the sun

luring your from your dark, sad waters,

burst through the surface


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Firmament...Say it out loud Doesn't it sound when it rolls from the tongue like something solid underneath the feet A place that births bursts of light, sweet green things? The kind of thing or place


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