A Rediscovery

 

To honour the Feathered Serpent, did they play

the hom, that Yucatec Maya wind instrument,

trumpet-like: a horn, a gourd, a bugle? Or did they

simply sing, allowing their reverence to lift in the air?

But Kukulcan (whom others called Quetzalcoatl)

was not only a being of feathers. His serpent self

owned the earth, sliding and writhing, rearing

or burrowing … belonging. At home in both extremes.

From what ancient time does this one reach for me,

igniting what spark of distant memory? Who was I then?

Where was I then? Both names plant themselves deep

in my solar plexus, with a tangible thrill. From first hearing.

As the images did at first sight. He is known, not merely

imagined. Yet I gave away the sacred medallion

which came to me magically – to a lover with the same

personal connection. I was told to. (How? By a knowing.)

This, I believe, was the true purpose of our meeting.

The medallion did my wandering for me, for lifelong years;

an unseen cord tying me to that man, those lands, that god

who was bringer of wind, rain, art and craft, ritual, and food. 

Written for April poetry month 2025. The NaPoWriMo prompt for Day 1 is to use in one's poem a musical term one previously didn't know.  We were also directed to 'The Getty Museum’s online exhibit on the Florentine Codex, a 16th-century sort of encyclopedia created in Mexico by a Franciscan friar and a group of Nahua elders, authors, and artists. I was drawn immediately to the mentions of the deity Quetzalcoatl, whom I first knew (in this lifetime) as Kukulcan. Therefore I chose the musical word hom, a wind instrument from ancient Meso-America – though it was not in the glossary we were invited to choose from..