Sobre un frasquito de agua traída del Monte Shasta
Sobre el altar hogareño el agua del manantial sagrado imperceptiblemente se agita en su frasquito al sentir la llamada de la luna llena que asoma por la ventana iluminándola.
Es dócil el agua a pesar del jalar de la luna; ningún resentimiento tiene contra las paredes cristalinas del frasquito que la enjaula aunque aun guarde memorias de su viaje oscuro por las entrañas de la montaña sagrada, de su escape tumultuoso por el ojo sagrado que da principio al río que abastece la región. Sabe que es rezo, su pureza anhelo del ser humano que la contempla iluminada por la luz de la luna.
Primordiales son las ligas que unen la luna, el agua, el hombre que reza.
© Rafael Jesús González 2011
On a Little Flask of Water Brought from Mt. Shasta
On the home altar, water from the sacred spring imperceptibly stirs in its little flask on feeling the call of the full moon peering through the window, illuminating it.
The water is docile in spite of the pull of the moon; no resentment does it have against the crystalline walls of the little bottle that cages it even though it keeps memories of its dark journey through the entrails of the sacred mountain, of its tumultuous escape through the sacred spring that begins the river that supplies the region. It knows that it is prayer, its purity the longing of the human being who contemplates it illuminated by the light of the moon.
Primordial are the ties that bind the moon, the water, the man who prays.
© Rafael Jesús González 2011
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