Tumacacori Garden © 2012 Bo Mackison
Can you look past the electric wires, telephone poles,
the matching but separate doors labeled MEN and WOMEN,
the coiled rubber hose, the 19th century stone wall cracked open for a water spigot?
Don’t heed the red stop sign hovering above the mission wall
or listen to the rumbling cars speeding from Nogales to the Border Patrol checkpoint.
Cover your ears with your determination for a sacred silence in this sacred space.
Block the sounds of horns blaring, ignore the heated words of the couple standing near the rose bush.
Shhh.
Can you hear rustling leaves, whistling wind? Can you see the shimmer of the cotttonwoods?
These winds were in this garden. The trees now camouflaging the sparrows’ nests, they were here.
The fountain — the garden’s heart — it was here with its rippling waters.
The dust blowing from the Tumacácori Mountain Range – that dust was here.
Those mountains? They stood in silence and watched.
Arched doorways sheltered the walkway, courtyard sheltered a painted statue of the Virgin with her Babe. They watched.
The yucca were here, the tepary beans trailed along the earth.
The nut tree saplings, freshly planted, they swayed in rhythm with the winds. They witnessed.
The che-che-chee of the sparrows joined the voices raised in song — of protest and praise, with humiliation and elation, in mourning and in gratitude.
Tumacacori Church © 2011 Bo Mackison
I hear their voices, I hear the choir lift their voices in song.
Harmonizing
Chanting
The rising alleluias, the longing amens.
Their voices. Do you hear them?
Che-che-cheee-ing alleluias.
Siss-siss-siss, leaves dancing, twirling along the dusty path.
Interior © 2011 Bo Mackison
Hearts dancing, hold your gaze on the star hunter, poised, aiming his arrow at the full moon.
Hidden voices in the whistling winds.
Hidden eyes, watching from Tumacacori.
Listen. Watch.
Hush.
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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She will be returning to Wisconsin later this week after living in Tucson for the last two months. She’s been exploring Arizona and living life “solo.” Occasionally she is moved to write poetry, as happened when she took a last visit to Tumacacori National Historic Site.
