Islas del Cielo

Islas del Cielo

I saw sky islands reaching high above me
As I scuffled across the rocky desert floor
They looked so inviting…yet so very far
I stared out at those islands without a shore

Down here I look around
And there are no tall trees
Just shrubs and rock and cacti
And other immigrant debris


Up there it seems so green
And the air…must be so cool
To have left my mountain home in Mexico
I must have been a fool

But in Estados Unidos the money is green
In my home of Durango the money is gone
The children’s shoes are tattered and worn
So we made this dreadful journey…just me and Juan

We left the Sierra Madre for Chihuahua
Stowaway scorpions hid in our packs
We battled our way up to Sonora
On dusty desert railroad tracks


We lived on beans and tortillas
Rode in boxcars and slept in the arroyo
Got drunk on homemade tequilas
And listened to music on Mexican radio

Border lights twinkled as we crossed over sand
Then into a semi with the door slammed tight
Threatened by the Coyote with a gun in his hand
The beauty of Durango taunted us every night

We only wanted to sweat and earn our keep
In a factory, on a farm, in an orchard or yard
So we could send it back to our families
For whom we had worked so very hard

But the dream was torn apart
Against the rocks and the needles
Hot wind whipped up
By an ancient source of evil
We’re suffering its wrath
The water is low
Snakes stretch across our path
There is nowhere to go


The dream seems dead
And so is Juan

Ravaged by the desert, they stripped him clean
Of his money, his boots and his canteen
All stolen by the maggot Coyote
Who seems born without a soul
Nor a heart, conscious or dignity

Coyote you will surely burn in hell
One much hotter than the Cabeza Prieta
I will kill you right here
Esta es mi promesa

Then I’ll disappear
Onto a desert mountain top
From the Santa Rita to the Sierra Azul
Back to my home I will sky island hop

Safe from the long arm of the law
Roaming these mountains like a cat
Of the Jaguar I will live in awe
With the fine-tuned senses of a bat

Up there where fish swim in streams
The air is thin but thick with pine
I can see it all in my dreams
Just over the borderline

Across this desert red as clay
I have hope that I’ll return alive

To my home in Durango one day

Jesse A
12/19/2012