OUT OF THE NIGHT THAT COVERS ME,
BLACK AS THE PIT FROM POLE TO POLE...
THE CLAN GATHERED IN JOSHUA TREE
AND SAT AROUND THE FIRE-HOLE. . . .
It was april and the winter rains had wrought a transformation
in the desert...
Wild flowers sprung up through rocky soil.
Ugly cactus plants exploded with exotic blooms.
The family shed its flannel and the sun shone down.
Expeditions to the tops of craggy hills...
trails to nowhere and back again.
Gentle zephers blowing across the Coreopsis in yellow waves,
Erasing the tensions from city-stressed faces.
Sunlight streaming through the lattice
casting bold sripes of black and gold across the flagstone. . ..
And painting the bodies stretched......out......in .........repose...
Children entranced by glittering rocks and prickly plants
See with wide open eyes
Vistas wide and wondrous!
From the blaze of noonday, to the long purple shadows of evening...
.
Time painted the day with ever-changing hues.
The deepening desert night comes down suddenly, enclosing all.
A beacon, shining in the darkness....our fire...
Our hacienda, a bright island in the vast desert night.
By b.owen
2 comments:
Wow, the dessert has its own distinct beauty, doesn't it? Definitely a different beauty than the Wisconsin type. A fire pit is so very relaxing and mesmerizing and forms a unity amongst us.
The desert has a unique kind of beauty-one learns to discern and appreciate the fragile environment and the subtle colors. . .
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