Do not bruise your knees on the glass of melted desert sand. Walk beyond this valley to a welcoming warming sun, even as winter reaches out with soft white arms, cools your burning skin. When the Spring tide returns under a bone-white moon this desert will be released, become the oasis it was meant to be -a harbor for song birds, for the wild flying call of the loon -a garden for colors that cannot be tamed by the eye. A place to rest a place to heal. The earth stretches beyond elegant fingers of shoreline, leads to the clean clear horizon where blues converge and you are once again brought to your knees to wonder at all there is.