Oaxaca
Large valleys that spread out,
Landmarks,
Proud monuments,
Crimson, dark, brown, hint of green.
Need of rain,
But not need of love,
Oh, how I love you, Oaxaca.
Oh, how my soul calls out your name.
My mom runs to you!
My dad’s soul calls your name!
In our dialect, we speak,
We wait to see you again,
Under the wide shade of El tule,
We eat the tortillas,
With warm chocolate,
Next to my ancestors,
Who Speak of what will be,
Hardwork.
Costumbres y más costumbres,
Hierbas,
The sign of the skies,
The signs of the birds,
The crops planted.
Staying connected to who we are.
To what our children will become.
Landmarks,
Proud monuments,
Crimson, dark, brown, hint of green.
Need of rain,
But not need of love,
Oh, how I love you, Oaxaca.
Oh, how my soul calls out your name.
My mom runs to you!
My dad’s soul calls your name!
In our dialect, we speak,
We wait to see you again,
Under the wide shade of El tule,
We eat the tortillas,
With warm chocolate,
Next to my ancestors,
Who Speak of what will be,
Hardwork.
Costumbres y más costumbres,
Hierbas,
The sign of the skies,
The signs of the birds,
The crops planted.
Staying connected to who we are.
To what our children will become.
This poem is copyright (©) Gema Casillas 2026
About the Writer
Gema Casillas
Gema grew up in the coastal town of Half Moon Bay, California, with her two sisters and parents. She is the daughter of an immigrant from Oaxaca, Mexico, where they only spoke Spanish at home and enjoyed delicious homemade meals. She studied English and Special Education at Notre Dame de Namur University. Gema works as a special education teacher who supports students with post-secondary goals. In 2024, she had the opportunity to attend the Golden Gate Day conference and was at Las Musas Hermana as well as a member of her local SCBWI.
