I know a place of silence
Where one can roam about -
Touch the height of peace
And watch the morning crown.
It's a place well-hidden -
Where no worry survives -
Where no thoughts break in
And living hope abides -
Where seraphs may be found
And joy is my raiment -
......
Rather than talking to walls –
I’d prefer a saguaro
For the wisdom they know.
Centuries – they come and go –
Leaving mysteries unsolved
And the traditions Loss mourns
Told through centenarian eyes
Could straighten crooked lies
With some persuasion – surprise! –
......
i can’t stop dreaming of the desert; penchants of empty spaces and rare faces
no destination in mind i just drive
i can’t stop dancing in between
the middle of everyone i meet;
i never leave the door open
and so no one ever peeks
i don’t know what i am
or where i’m going
......
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive;
for surviving, often takes extra effort.
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
Then cool moon arrives, as if pressured.
A beautiful, flowering cacti night, alive!
Intense thirst in the sweltering desert,
yet, the emerald succulents still thrive.
I see the green of the desert
That overcomes the brown –
Clinging to ground and water –
And with gentle affection –
It might reveal some color
Like a yellow persuasion.
I feel the fermenting sun
Calling out the vultures
......
I know a place of silence
Where one can roam about -
Touch the height of peace
And watch the morning crown.
It's a place well-hidden -
Where no worry survives -
Where no thoughts break in
And living hope abides -
Where seraphs may be found
And joy is my raiment -
......
Dusty roads take me out
To the furthest reaches -
To places not thought of
Way off highway stretches -
To the rocky vales where
A lonely thrasher calls
And scarcely people hear
His excitable songs -
......
Dry logs redden and snap;
The fire is soon impressive.
The wolf moon takes better shape
As night begins to settle in.
I watch the conflagration spike;
A spark flies off, then others
Like the universe had coaxed them
To become one of the stars.
Color my small world -
Oh, fair Yeshua -
With a streak of globe mallow
Inside a rocky draw
And the morning calm
Of bergamot and lupine -
So I can stop time
And set my gaze upon them -
......
Rather than talking to walls –
I’d prefer a saguaro
For the wisdom they know.
Centuries – they come and go –
Leaving mysteries unsolved
And the traditions Loss mourns
Told through centenarian eyes
Could straighten crooked lies
With some persuasion – surprise! –
......