Flute notes echo with soft drum beats, as a human soul does sing
Tearing from a body floating up, leaving all trivial earthly things

Dressed in black, Santiago, Chile, morns her dead as angels sound
Vineyards abandoned, red copper and steelworkers sadly abound

Her City’s kindness, a handmade doll, given to this guest in tears
Wrought with shadows of sad yesterdays and her unrealistic fears

I mourn her dead, victims of a plague, and her every beloved one
Ready to greet others, who went before them, and God’s Only Son

Sweet smiles, and grace her City, I found, when I was woeful there
Love given a stranger, ungloved, as now I bow down to say a prayer

Written by Joni Caggiano on 06/18/20 – Image is free with WordPress

I was in Santiago many years ago and so distraught that I cried in front of a kind woman who worked…