Los Muertos No Hablan

Los Muertos No Hablan "Los muertos no hablan", or so I've heard said. Which succintly put, means, "there's no talk from the dead". For years I had heard it, believed it was true... Till I learned a secret, which I now tell to you. The spirit of man is a force we must reckon- Sometimes from the shadow of death it does beckon. And deaths pent with passion, or spirits done wrong- Quite often, though perished, their voices speak on. There's many a house, long touted as haunted- Sought by ghost hunters, with prowess much vaunted. Declaring they'd prove that it all was a hoax! They left them believing in spirits and ghosts. Just go to a battle field, once sodden with blood, Where stalwarts were slaughtered, in ranks as they stood. And in the full moonlight, hills, valleys and folds- Give birth to the armies, fifes shrill and drums roll. Bowie, and Crockett, and Travis, and all- Still gather and live in the Alamo's walls... Custer, and Keogh... to name just a few- Still wander the Big Horn in the damp of the dew. Tarawa, Betio, Iwo, Palau- The beachheads, and bunkers, on Guadalcanal. Where brave men have struggled and gave up the ghost- If someone will listen, they'll speak, this dread host. One tells of a sweetheart, whom he left behind- To mourn for this victim, of fate so unkind. Another will speak of his wife, and his son... And that one will tell of the deeds he has done. "Los muertos no hablan"? I beg to defer- Come journey with me, and I'm sure you'll concur... It isn't a journey for timid, or weak... But if you will hear, the dead will still speak. Written December 26th, 2001 © on Dec 26 2001 02:09 AM PST, John R. Yaws   0 • 10