a thousand miracles

I. el abuelo
there is no time to fetch the midwife.
the townsfolk stand by and witness
a baby boy, born beside the river
he will someday cross.
there will be work on the other side,
a life to build and a language to learn
on the rails dancing between two lands.
after years of steam and sweat,
he is the last one to survive,
the last son living.

II. la madre
the cancer hasn’t killed her,
the chemo might.
her body jaundiced,
a legacy threatened.
but the fever will break.
the surgery will work.
the tumor, nothing more than a memory;
a yearly mammogram,
punctuated by Cesareans.
something different grows here now,
something sacred
she sings to life
with a psalm only she knows,
and the universe answers
every time.

III. los milagros
two children, born from the same miracle.
the answer to hospital room prayers,
their mother tells me
she thanks God for them every Sunday.
they are still so young,
so lucky,
and so unaware
of what runs in their blood:
quiet hunger,
border crossings,
radiation scars.
and it aches me
that they don’t know
they are the softest ending
to the hardest beginning.

IV. la hijastra
I don’t know if I can count myself among them;
the fruit of another woman’s womb,
a strange ornament placed upon their tree.
but he calls me muñeca.
she calls me her daughter.
there was no promise
of belonging
but maybe there is
some place for me
inside these miracles.

By: Rebekah Rodriguez

Rebekah Rodriguez is a writer and storyteller from Laredo, Texas. She holds both a bachelor’s and master’s degree in communication from Texas A&M International University, and her work spans poetry, personal essays, and newswriting. Rooted in themes of memory, love, grief, and identity, her writing is shaped by her South Texas upbringing and a “try anything once” approach to storytelling. Most recently, her work has appeared in DVINO Magazine, Infrarrealista Review, and Tragaluz Journal. She can be reached on Instagram @rebekahrdz.