La Llorona The Brave

Written in August 2o17 

A woman wails with water,

while writhing down arroyos.

Her name is La Llorona.


Noah would have no water on which to float his ark,

without her story,

as old as his.

And the miracle of his mission

would be given no meaning

for he would be seen an unwise fool.

A builder of waste

instead of sacred space.


To some La Llorona is a wailing woman,

a story of woes.

To some a screaming maiden

scaring her foes.


To me the emboldened flood of waters,

usually damned by silent sisters in the night.

Freedom for those who solemnly refuse their cries,

the Feminine unleashed under cover of darkness

warning the world to stop undermining

raw life force,

Madre Tierra,

and the women who come from her.


La Llorona is a feared heroine

a siren

in the desert.

Persephone’s companion from the underworld.


Her bones know the art of cleansing.

She is a living limpia

residing in desert hearts.


She does not physically pull and push

arroyo runners to their death.

She is calling them into waters of transformation,

to find their own braveness

in El Rio Bravo.


After all,

we do not die definitively

as we are not born so.

Birth is simply alchemical,

a reincarnation of energy,

and La LLorona understands this.

The other side of our grief

and pain for life

is our love for it.

Only through eyes

washed with water

do we see this love purely.

She pushes us not to the death,

but to a death,

and that is why we fear her so.

Her’s is the song of letting go.


La Llorona

is a channel of tears unshed by millennia of women who didn’t have space for vulnerability.

She is a great relief,

like coyotes howling under star light

welcoming us back into our own wilds.


Some of us courageously move toward her,

seek her out even,

on our darkest nights,

sing, “show me the way.”


“Mother carry me

your child I will always be,

Mother carry me

down to the sea”


And there in the great ocean,

that La Llorona leads us to,

we swim below Noah’s Ark,

into waters of our own depths,

with nothing to save us,

but our inner treasure.


As we return to the surface

with the gold of our Souls

she dances

and laughs.

Hermosa Joven

she has become.


Before she mirrored our un-navigated darkness,

now she mirrors our infinite youth.