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  • Writer's picturesoulstarhypno

love letter to La Virgen de Guadalupe

Updated: Feb 2, 2022

I sit still intimately writing to you. I hold infinite love for you. You are my Mother. I am grateful God manifested in you. I adore you. ♥ Te alabo. You are graceful. Your presence has always been with me in the worst parts of my life. My love spills to you, everything I am, flows to you, my dear Guadalupana. Te adoro. Manifested cosmic rose you, Infinity Love. I hold you. I imagine crossing the desert and holding a single rose in my hand to give to you. Like Juan Diego to find you wrapped up in gold. You are a Queen with a star cloak, but you always been humble. I think of all the manifestations of you. My heart still recognizes you. O glorious One! I love you so much.

My paper blossoms dozens of roses sprouting. I hold you so dear. I am writing you a love letter. You make me think of all the strong womxn in my life whom I admire. Gorgeous. My paper keeps sprouting roses. I will bathe in roses for the next cycle. Drench my body in rose alcohol elixir to cleanse and retain the perfume on my skin.

At noon, I go to church with my dad. Full blown mariachi singing las mañanitas to you, paloma blanca. I love to celebrate with community, with people who adore you. In prayer, my eyes water as they do now, thinking of you as a miracle, but you tell me I am a miracle. If you are reading this, you are a miracle. I think of shedding tears of stars, the feeling of vulnerability and intimacy between us. When no one is watching or waiting on me, you sit still with me. You intercede in my life and make it better. Another year, another cycle to cherish you and all the manifestations of you. At night, after full days of celebration, I sit in my chair to compose the words, the way songs are composed to you by the numerous mariachis which span all of time. In my chair with my feet on my bed writing to you, Celestial Mother of mine. A divine portrait in front of me with wind chime of moons and stars. I blow air for the melody--a lullaby. The lullaby recovers a memory. When I visited a church, they told me underneath your cape you wear black shoes because you love to dance. That is why te alabamos con música, diferente tipos de música. Te encanta bailar, festejar, rejoice, celebrar con nosotros. I see you dancing in a circle with our people. As I close my eyes to sleep, I will picture you dancing all night till the morning comes. All the stars of our ancestros encircling you, Great Mother.

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