Oasis Of Mara Poem by Juan Olivarez

There's a little waterhole,
Bubbling up through the ground.
And twenty nine palms,
Planted all around.

Right through the rocks,
It has formed a pool.
In the middle of nowhere,
And the water is cool.

The palms were planted,
So long ago.
By a desert tribe,
Where the water flowed.

A shaman told them,
That for each child born,
They should plant a palm,
Early in the morn.

And that first year,
They numbered twenty nine.
Around the oasis,
Of water cool and fine.

The Oasis Of Mara,
Still bubbles through the ground.
And Twenty Nine Palms,
Now is a town.

And part of my heart,
Calls out to me.
From the Oasis Of Mara,
Living wild and free.