Parched sun on naked earth,
Memory of water dulled,
Crushed by galloping heat.
The rhythmic wash of waves
alien as contours of verdant dales,
To blades of ancient rock and ruptured land.
Dead to ocean swells and sighing breath.
Life - which longs to root beneath
its blinding horizons,
dust calls my heart home
never been in that expanse
I am now
trapped in the titles of this city
feeling the need to get away
into the sun and dirt
where you are as unknown as the
icy fingers of a winter breeze
in that place
I hope to find a part of myself
always known missing
I’ll never understand
a place I've never been
calls me home
Walking this trail, all is strange
I am still round, in a place fitting square pegs
the evening desert with saguaro looking people, my friends
snakes, and the hissing heat of day, now crawl away
in a melting sea sky of orange, red
birth of indigo rising, turning pitch black
no sound of cities, no world out there
only the calling of stars, musical notes
songs, twinkling in time with
the hot honey yellow moon
Sometimes my eyes
Are the skies
Of the desert
Dry as the lies
That they told us
On the ground
Insects and mole rats
Little lizards that run fast
And you may ask
Where is the metaphor
Well, everything is a
Metaphor for everything else
In The Light, I am engulfed.
Eyes wide open yet I see nothing but white.
Feel nothing but an impenetrable heat.
As if my eyes were closed and the sun
were blazing right before me in all His glory.
I am lifted into an infinite beam
by a powerful gust.
Soaring higher and higher.
My body slowly begins to dematerialize
into grains of sand.
The wind, She spreads me all about.
Each grain a gem waiting to be discovered.
There is a soothing pool,
Which with the driest dirt,
No man shall break its rule,
It stands to be assert,
As outlaws start to drool,
When these men hurry first,
They encounter their duel,
A man with crimson shirt,
To man he is no fool,
They try to make sure he is hurt,
By using deadly tools,
Some disguise to a friendly flirt,
To try to become cool,
But he does not attempt to lurk,
Cause they were very cruel…
A touchable divinity,
A scalable infinity,
The clay of which you are comprised
Was gathered in serpent's eyes.
In fightable solitude,
Dancing with dots of blue,
The very thing from which you ran
Protected your feet from the hot sand.
There is a child in the desert,
a child that never sleeps,
his eyes are always wide open,
for darkest secret that he keeps.
There is a child that knows everything,
a child,with pockets that are full of sand,
eaven if you find him somewhere,
he speaks a lanuage that you can't understand.
There is a child that walks slowly,
a child,who made people out of sand to play ,
built a playground,to play forever ,
parentless child ,and Time is his name.