Desert Poem by Phil Soar

I dipped my hand into the drifting sand
Sinking through the myriad of granules as a knife through butter
The warmth moving through the nerves
Wondering what lay beneath, my fingers search
Not knowing what they will find
Hoping nothing untoward will touch the fingertips
I place my hand in grains of sand
And lick my hungry lips

I stretch my arm a little more in search of water
Deeper into swirling particles I feel around
But it stays warm and nothing changes deep within
And even though the oasis I search for may be in my mind
I keep trying because my mind tells me to
Before I will dry and become a part of this vast place
A desert with no fauna, with no aura
Just the heat