Andalucia

There’s a wail in the air that envelops the walls of your region

It is the cry of longing for what will never be again and the song of resignation that hits a melancholy  note

Walking through your streets I feel an unexplainable sadness and my steps take on the anger of your gypsy flamenco dance

Majestic palaces, cathedrals and temples come together to raise the prayers of your inhabitants

As the castanets and classical guitars tap and strum the rhythm of your lively people, you are the Spain of old with a common folk feeling and a grounding that does not allow you to put on airs

In a place where once many went to answer the call to prayer, resides the reminiscent shadow of David’s Star where a crucifix now stands

You are the lesson of a peace we of the world have yet to embrace and yet your roads are paved with the senseless blood spilt over an unexplainable discord

All anyone ever wanted to do was worship their deities and live in harmony

Somehow your people now get to do this, but what was the price your ancestors paid to claim your renewed Andalusian soul

In the Sevilla of today I sample Tapas bars that speak to your history and local fare

There isn’t enough wine, caña or Sangría to drown out the haunting steps  and claps of the bulerias coming from your Tablaos

In the Albazyn I feel your Moorish past as we walk through narrow alleyways enjoying the Carmens that adorn your white walled homes

In Granada, I visit the Alhambra and Generalife Gardens and wonder how many beings had to perish so we could all enjoy a walk through utter beauty, a place where any prayer would surely be answered by any God

I leave you, my soul changed by the tears the mothers of sons cried during war and with the sorrowful tradition that adorns the visage of your resilient people

You have welcomed me to your streets and I leave you a better person because I have learned about your struggle

You are a tired place with a handsome history and the wrinkles of time to document the exhaustive mile you’ve walked to embrace your present

You are the España of old with a common folk feeling and a grounding that does not allow you to put on airs

You are young and old, you are then and now, you are them and us

You are Andalucia

And I am most glad to have made your acquaintance 

  
 

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