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.