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Desert Flower

Rating: 5.0
Out here alone,
I, under the sun's burden, burn.
The mountains, so far flung,
barely in view, like a mirage,
a mystical memory that can't quite seem to be,
serve as a compass,
a direction to hope for; a reflection of me -
Waiting on a vision,
looking for a sign,
where 40 days mingle with 40 nights,
I scan the land, and find,
not an angel anywhere in sight.
My tears fall like stones
and lay upon the cracked earth.
I drop to my knees,
trying to retrieve them, but
they melt away, ever departed;
like an endless storm blowing,
never content to stay
where they started...
Though I thirst, I can't even touch
the water, over there -
In great silence a whirlwind passes by.
The dry is like dirt born from above.
I long for a drink, and a word...
but out here, in the desert,
none is given, none is heard.
Accordingly, as one must,
I await the bloom,
fearing, it may not be soon -
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COMMENTS
Captain Cur 10 April 2021
Words that can mean many different things. The allusion to 40 days and 40 nights. The hunger and thirst. The pain and aloneness. Waiting for the solitary bloom, which may or may not come! Perhaps a poem of resurrection and renewal, after the suffering has passed!
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Cowboy Ron Williams 08 April 2021
Great poem, Pard! I feel your thirst. Here, take a swig from my canteen. It's cold and sweet.
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A poignant and touching poem well crafted and executed. Great imagery.
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Kostas Lagos 08 April 2021
The desert. Wild, beautiful full of surprises! Great poem
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