In the middle of the Mojave,
Is resting an old cross.
I have no idea whose it is,
My mind is at a loss.
It is just there.
I know Someone or something,
Is laying underneath.
Some desert stones surround it,
Sort of like a desert wreath.
It is just there.
There's mountains on the east,
And mountains to the west.
Among the stands of cholla,
And the shadows that they cast.
It is just there.
Out in the desert, all alone,
Peace and quiet reigns.
The perfect place to spend forever,
Amidst the sandy golden grains.
It is just there.
It will be there, when I return,
Thats where I want to be.
Out in the middle of nowhere,
It's calling out to me.
I know it's there.
Wow. You've done it again Juan. You have made my heart to ache with longing to go and see, and be in this mysterious Mojave desert. I must go there someday, Lord willing. Great writing once again.
i think we're all 'just there'... sounds and feels peaceful!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have never been in a desert but this poem somehow took me there. I could see the vastness and the quiet soothing relief of Silence. Thanks for such a vivid poem!