A hawk came to me and said, quite simply. “¿Estas Listo?”
But a Crow did its best to discourage me by filling my heart with ideas that I wasn’t good enough to fly with the hawk.
I rose above my doubt and nodded to the Hawk that I was ready. and in a moment’s breath, we were on our way. After a period of weightlessness, I heard a familiar yet distant moan. A closer look revealed a group of people who seemed lost. Though they didn’t speak, the distant roars were their heart crying out for answers to questions like , “Who are we?; How did we get here?; Where are we going?” Their soul-longings touched me; but I felt helpless against their pain. Just then a bright light washed away everything and the mass of people became dust and their cries became the wind.
I flew toward the light. It was a star that was signaling the birth of greatness. It showed the way to a small barn where peace flowed through the air. I watched as a mother held her newborn baby; yet I knew there was something different about this child. The mother, too, was different. She was simple but beautiful; she radiated a love that could only have been a direct feed from heaven. I watched all sadness and fear leave Earth’s collective soul when she fed her anointed son.
A coldness I’ve never felt then sent shivers throughout my heart as the small barn became a temple. At the top of the temple were three Aztec warriors surrounding a Spanish Conquistador. The Conquistador was a captive of battle; he was being sacrificed in hopes that the gods would end the siege of Spanish Conquerors. Valiantly, the Conquistador lunged at one of his captors, cutting the Indian’s face releasing a stream of blood from his cheek. The other warriors then grabbed the Spaniard, ripping his heart from his chest. I felt nothing but terror as the heartless body was rolled down the steps of the temple of Huitzilopochtli.
The Aztec warrior whose face became a river of blood held the heart up to the gods. Blood dripping from the heart fell upon the warrior’s face crating a fusion of blood that became a river that washed over the temple. The river of blood rushed along the ground, splashing. A drop from one of the stronger splashes fell upon my tongue.
I then came upon a hillside covered with the most beautiful flowers seen by man. The fragrance filled the air and restored calm to me after I had witnessed and tasted the violent beginnings of a new culture. The serenity of the hill brought hope; only divinity was present. AS I flew to the top of the hill, I was stunned by an image of the Blessed Mother.
As our eyes met, I saw myself looking at my own mother. She had a peace about her that I had never seen. She caressed my face, and said with as much love as I witnessed in the barn, “Be strong for your family, Mi hijo. Always. And always remember that the Hawk and the Crow have always, and will always, fly under the same sky.”