...the view from the sidewalks of Minneapolis and Saint Paul...
Sidewalk Poetry #49: Our Lady of Guadalupe
Our Lady of Guadalupe, leaning in the mercado window, make intercession for the West Side. Mystical rose of yellow, red, and blue, protect those who journey through the corners of George, State, and Chavez streets — New Tepeyac, District del Sol. We are the least of your children, a thousand blessed Juan Diegos from the mountains of Southeast Asia and Central America, the deserts of Mexico and Somalia, the far-off foreign districts of Lebanon, Chicago, and the suburbs. Our faith shines bright as apparitions on our winter cloaks, a testament to the possibilities that lie in the shadow of your love.
O Virgin of Guadalupe, Mother of the Americas, smile on your children who toil at the clinic across the street to heal the broken and the broken system. Show pity to the neighbors in back, who teach citizenship and keep the food shelf stocked. Bless the smell of roasting corn and the rhythm of Aztec dancers. Watch over the homeless and the drunken sleeping in Parque Castillo. Grant comfort to your children eating soul food at Cora's Remember especially the women in hijab and winter coats, making their way to Salam Halal Market. Touch the hearts of those who venture through for good food and those who speak languages to accommodate them.
Dear Lady of Guadalupe, ringing in the bells of the parish that bears your name, we proclaim you and the miracle of your appearance, mystical rose of yellow, red, and blue, leaning in the mercado window on the West Side. Nowhere are we without you, not even in the dead of winter in Saint Paul. Amen