Diga me, tell me, the old man said,
How you will tell the children and
Their children when the time comes,
The old stories about the land and
About how we came here.
Once again how the stones at Chaco
Were set in lines to tell the stars
Up there in the sky where to shine
once again how the river ran
Through the canyon to flow out
Into the plains down here below
Where it was water all the way
Across from those hills in the east
To the mountain ridges where the sun
Goes down to sleep each night.
How you have learned to sing the songs
The mountain sings when Spring rushes
Into green and the apple trees and roses
Come out to see and be seen here
And in the villages down river that
Have been the homes for all of us
And make sure you still remember
How we came into this land
That welcomed us when we had
Had enough of all the other places
We had known before.
Victor di Suvero, award winning poet and publisher has been living in New Mexico for the past 23 years. He served as a Merchant Mariner and has been writing consistently since then. He still believes poetry is as necessary as air, as water and bread.