I'll cross the desert,
and climb the mountain top.
I'll sit up high,
and watch the sun
sink low in the sky.
I'll wait until dark,
when all is still,
when the moon is bright,
and shining full.
I'll write down a wish,
and burn it up,
then pray to the moon
to give me luck.
I'll coax her sweetly
to take my love,
to take it,
and give it right to you.

This desert
reminds me
of my heart.
It burns
hotter than hell
during the day,
before growing
colder than ice,
beneath
the moonlit night.

I'll pray for you
beneath the moon,
and shed tears of moonlight
that reveal your truth.
I'll walk barefoot
across this shore,
collecting treasures
that remind me of you.
I'll pretend they wandered
from me to you,
like a message in a bottle
tossed out to sea.
I'll write you letters,
and burn them here,
setting you free
from my dark memory.
I'll let you go,
while walking barefoot,
but always thinking of you,
beneath the waning moon.

My heart is more gentle,
than a delicate flower.
I cannot stand by,
and forget,
when those I care for
are fighting a war
all by themselves.
I don't believe
anyone should have to
suffer alone,
or behind closed doors.
I believe
we should open our arms,
and allow love to flow freely
from one heart to the next.
I believe
in being there,
regardless of time,
regardless of mistakes.
I believe in understanding.

I gaze across the dry desert land.
It goes for miles,
nothing,
but long stretches of valleys,
tucked between mountain walls.
It's like being hidden in a dust bowl.
It's so hot,
and the traffic of cars
kicks up the desert dust,
clouding everything in sight,
but it is a place of refuge
for those seeking
a spiritual revelation.
I certainly understand
why these lands are sacred
to the Native Americans,
and to the indigenous
people of Mexico.
I have only spent
a few days here,
but I already feel more at peace,
free from the hussle,
and shackles of our society.  
I have been contemplating
my place in this world,
beneath the heat of the sun,
with the sand between my toes.
I can't help that my mind wanders.
I wonder who walked
these lands thousands of years ago,
that I am now trespassing on
with my pitched up tent,
and campfire.
What was there purpose?
Were they simply settled here,
or were they just walking
in search of something more?
Possibly for a rite of passage?
Traveling across the desert,
to commune with their
Gods and Goddesses.
These are the questions
that float through my mind,
as I meditate in the dry desert.
I wonder if these
thoughts are my own,
or if the spirits of the past
have placed them in my mind,
to rekindle the magic
that used to fill these lands.
A place now,
where the wonder of the desert
has become a mirage.
A place of beauty,
but barren of magic
to those who live with eyes closed.