Desert Sands Poem by Mark Heathcote

Desert sands are whipped up into storms
but where they'll come to rest
that could be a thousand miles from
where they once previously came to rest
Just like us, they can get hot and bothered
but they are directly a part of this earth
just the same as us. Sometimes we're blest
transformed into a bell jar glass or a fragment,
a sword, a shard thrust dagger embedded
in a living-breathing heart. A burning inferno
inside someone feeling hurt and
-internally scared, but please don't entertain
becoming a desert instead, cradle and
comfort every buzzard and camel snake
and scorpion of the sand because in the end
they're not that much different from you and me.
Who-were-expelled from the Garden of Eden
but not expelled from love? So why don't you
lay a little stardust on me, my fallen star, my love
and later on, we'll mingle in the dew and
form our very own millpond oasis, dream kissed.