The endless sands bulging over and breaking
in undulating form
shifting in the winds language of low wolf whistles
and sensual whispers
stretches as far as the minds elasticity
into a sheltered cove where sits,
a desert prophet dreaming of strange rituals
in the mirage of waters and wastelands.

Come time and temperament he will rise
in the chill night to gaze upon the stars
moving within the spangled galaxies
between The Milky Way and Cassopeia,Andromeda,
with  Sirius suns rising in a another world
where secrets lay buried in the papyrus
of ancient astrologers who understood
how the earth was born and
other peoples left their mark
for a discovery  of millennium  future.

The prophet was here once.
Twelve feet tall and striding
between giant obelisks and pyramids
walking oceans, crossing land bridges
and land masses escorting
his forbears to seed the earth.

"I will return in time
ten thousand years after the Aztecs
Machu Pichu, Indus and Empires
built on carved  gods and seven headed hydra,
to rule again unquestioned, as before. Think.
Till then -leave what I have left behind
for you to caretake. Stay still.  Understand.

Author Notes
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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago