shield yourself from winds of shattered glass
sparkling and dancing ‘cross the desert
in a twist of fate
veiled
she emerges
tall with tools in hand
strikes earth with God-like blasts
and swiftly sets the dust by her command

cracked orange and beige line horizons ahead
three-hundred sixty degrees of dry, dry land
sweat drips
from forehead
to feet beneath
but the hot ground drinks
your juice before it can be seen
like the jerky flesh of a jack-rabbit
turned from corpse to some dry, dry bones

follow along the waving, molten paths
seductive tones will take you by the hand
and lead if you beware of the mirage
ubiquitous; devious, ambiguous
so shut your eyes, open your mind
"there will be no man left behind."

in her tracks she halts, and smiles
she rests in place still as cacti
a singular explosion
starts to shatter the terrain
she dives into the chasm
and  begins to dig
and dig and dig;
she builds a home
always enclosed
to dwell, to dig
warm within
the valley of
wisdom.