In the desert our water-spoiled senses seem to come to life.  Days can go by without a scent of water or clean, moist earth.  Shade under a desert tree that’s recently had fill of rain is completely different from that of a building or overhanging stones.  The scent of water in the desert is not easily explained without some sort of poetic sense.  It’s like breathing life.  It is coolness and a refreshing that has a physical impact.  Sometimes I feel like I can touch it, maybe even see it, that shimmering sense of wellness in a place that appears dry and dead.  I love this in my desert. 

I think you, each, are my sense of life in my little desert-mind.  That essential water that, though beautiful and wonderful anywhere in the world, is far more in the corners of desolation, distance and endless days.  The sky may be filled with dreams, but the life is found here, here at the waystation and shimmering oasis of this one’s visions.

Up, up past the ridge of vision

The line of sight at the bronze edge of the world

Little moments, little words I find to savor

I am alive!

Oh I love you.  I love you.  I am alive.

Let us walk the sides of this endless mountain. 

Let us lose our balance at the summit and tumble into the powdered snow.

Let us flee the setting sun into visions of the dawn, of waking

In this, this poetry of bright forever,

I would wear a thousand quills to dust in words of you. 

Let me bring you to my place, that of sky blue and forest green. 

Let us walk arm in arm down the long hills.

We shall savor the sunset, chase shadows among the stars. 

We shall chase these children as they fly with the wind. 

Let us live. 

We must live.

I adore you. 

You are mine and you have saved me. 

I see no shadow alone, but with you, o my own. 

We see the shades together, and we are each other’s.

I love these things,

these whispers that you and I share.

We have our paper screams, our own world’s attention. 

We have our touch.

We.  You, me. 

Desire me as I desire you. 

Touch me in return. 

Bring about my sweet demise in your dark eyes.

You.  I dream of. 

I dreamed you. 

I wrote of you. 

I ran to you.

And you are here. 

Alive. 

I am so, right now. 

Keep me. 

Preserve me. 

I last not long, for but a flame am I,

a matchstick with but moments of vitality. 

Ere I fall to ash,

lift me to your lips and taste me. 

Burn with me. 

Lift this breath together with me. 

In arms. 

In vision. 

In souls.

Shake this mortal cinder. 

Chase me among the canyons. 

Seek my voice. 

Find me in the shadows. 

Find me in the crystal clear pools. 

Find me in the mirror of the night. 

Take me.

Let this flight be our last. 

Let it last forever. 

Let our breath never die,

our gaze never fade,

our love never falter.

Come with me.

Come.

Course the horizon

Dust in our memory

The setting sun

Shall burn through our rough robes

We speed in the wake

Of distance

The sand plumes

The whipping grass

Is pure sound

Whipping at our fleeing figures

We fly, we soar

Wind is nothing

We create it

We are wind

It howls in rage

As we Burst through this trail

On our quickened souls

To nowhere

To everywhere

We see no water

No sacred rest

It is the pounding

The sifting dream

Of desert in our ride

The dunes

The ridge

Ghostlike

We pass them all

For this is the ride

Ride of lifetimes

You’ve seen it

You’ve seen us pass

Did you join us

In our flight

Our passion

Our departure

We sailed upon the seas of sand

We savored the hard sweat

The span of the world

We touched the horizon

We touched the depths of the depths

And we seek them again

Ride with us

Ride beside

This caravan fleet

This fiery wake

Of dust

Passion

Ride

Begin

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This poem is classified DRUNEO for Don’t Read Unless Not Easily Offended.

I’ll not hold my pictures from publication, but feel there should be at least a forewarning.

My imagery is love, of intimacy, which is far too distant in my place here.  I miss my darling, and I’ve conjured her up before me in words.

Desert Caress is a sort of revealing from In The Sand Again as well as In the Sand, which I wrote LONG ago.

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With no wings

Yet flying true

You were with me

Told me I knew

What was me

What I knew

I knew

Thank you

I did not

Do not

Have to watch

To smile

Did not

See the bridges that

Might have been

Crumbling

With no wings

Yet flying, you flew

Right beside me

In love

In the fair blue

You showed me

Something true

I did not know I knew

Thank you

I did not

Do not

Have to see

The footprints

To remind me.

Blood on theses blossoms

Fair crimson washing

Pain and death away

No thing save the blood

And this that the glory cannot die

In these fields

What was mortal, that will fade

And this flow of red has stopped the law

of time

of death

And written this law

of life

Let the thought bring tears

of joy

For this is not

Pale frost, here for a moment

But a great cloak of white

As a blizzard

And nothing

No Thing

Can be seen but the blood

And That

Is beautiful

_____________________________________

Marriage, passion,

The way it’s supposed to be.

With the firelight dim

Flickering on the wall

Warm drinks rest

Close at hand

And we bow our heads

Sighing our peace

Whispering our joy

The pine-smell is still

More than just memory

The bits of paper

Are still underfoot

And washed dishes

Haven’t lost

Their scent of a feast

That was sweet because of all of us

Because we were together

And the Lord was among us

Though shadows lurk

Awaiting the new year

And the seasons

That will test us as we go

And we hold our fears

At bay this night

For nothing

Can draw from us

His grace

His peace

His hope

Which is sweet for all of us

Because we are His forever

And the Lord will not forsake us

When the man played your song

And you asked me to dance

A tear welled up

As I took your hands

Whatever happened to us

On that wonderful night then

You cried on my arm

And you said, “Thanks, friend”

The bright stars grew brighter

In the fast warming night

And the song filled our souls

As we drew close together.

there were stars

in my eyes tonight

and for the first time

they were bright

there were tears

the first in many years

and I fear when I wake up

the sky will again be blue

and, for once

a love song from these lips

is warm

and my pen had no slips

and no longer shall I fear

the waking from dreams

and I have removed the bindings

from the circles I drew.