The Desert

In the desert I am a grain,
A nomad breathing to the wind the sun the sand,
The climate shifts and I shift.
Around the fire of the night, the deserts’ animals wake
And, with a sea of pearls over my turbaned-head,
I sit telling tales, singing, playing and sharing,

Daytime. On my camel, heading where the wind wills.

In the desert, never alone, a rider and his steed
Listen to the weather’s whispers,
The directions heat dictates,
They follow the beat of nature’s drum.
They know that they are free.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s