On Passing Through Death Valley In November Poem by Yen Cress

I stood in the vast, silent desert,
Alone, on a winter-bleak night;
Around me the wind blew so fiercely
The stars cast a shimmering light.

The sagebrush and chaparral murmured
In whispers of ghost-swirling sand.
A platinum half-moon crept upward
Past hillocks the sharp wind had fanned.

My arms I raised upward to heaven.
Bright starpoints spread out on display
Like pinholes in blue velvet curtains
That cover the window of day.

I wondered how people imagine
Such glory could happen by chance.
Can't they see the Creator's great wisdom?
His hand made this wondrous expanse!

I threw back my head to the vision
And gulped in the sharp-silky air.
Mere moments I stood in the desert
But eons passed while I was there.