This western morning,
the desert is mourning heat.
Like a sauna- steam emits, rising-
From an earth cracked in defeat;
like a spirit leaving sleep.
Imperfect cursive dances
In a tired scribe's script;
Calligraphic loops waltz
In elegant freeform-
a gesture in search for truth.
Lost in time's translation
A language of foreign origin
Speaks aloud in condemnation
Thunderous clouds gather
A palette of grey droplets
Dripping in heaps are heard
Undeciphered but understood.
Can sands of Genesis
Ever be kissed?
with granulated grain
On pairs of lips
like specks of salt
To malt terrain, untravelled-
To melt in rain, fathom-
a road once dusted
an existence unravelled.
Desert accompany me-
Sun, bring my shadow!
See what I shall see.
Wonders never seize.
Once called "my city"
I don't love leaving.
"Lions roam these streets" is whispered..
As jaws clench
And tongues graze teeth
a carnivorous crave begins to think-
We too, have sharp teeth.
