Homage to Pablo                                               

            I would hesitate
            To shake your hand, 
            The one that stretches
            Like a labyrinth of roots,
            A thatched protectorate
            For the deep eternal springtime of your eyes,
            Their knowledge of fruitful hate,
            Incendiary beacons

            My young hands seem so 
            Old-fashioned, tactful
            Almost to dishonesty
            With their impetus to sand
            And smooth discarded sin,
            To arrange wild roses on the
            Table of my aspirations,            
            To keep the dancing fingertips
            In check
            Even when jazz is on the radio
            Or a lover reaches into me
            Like still tall grasses in a summer field
            Before the rains

            I used to watch the 
            Wheeling span of outstretched wing
            With sorrow for the laws of
            Hunger, gravity and fear

            But thanks to you 

            I’m seeing more that
            Tethers let a muscle flex,
            That shadow throws a greater light
            On the complexities of joy


            Emanuel E. García, A Deeper Symmetry2014