Hometown

a poem by Roger B Rueda

We are you. We are your voice.
You are the history
of our presence
and before.
You cuddle us living
there now,
and the voice
of our verses.
We are as much a fragment
of the scenery
as the earth we stand on.
We find an enchantment
in being alive
in the here and now.
You are the cradle
of our shared sense
and sustenance -
images, metaphors,
and the wretched delusion
beyond legend. 
We have faith in 
some newfangled ways.
They must be found,
in the real image,
a conversion
of your antiquity.
Renewing
the mortal relation
to you rests upon
the ink slingers,
your sons
or daughters,
or us, or anyone, taking to the spur.