This is a poem about the desert and about the beauty of native people’s ways of life.
In the desert
we dream
only of water
our way of imploring the sky,
blue in its cloudless austerity,
to nourish the
parched, cracked
tapestry of
blowing sagebrush,
swirling specks of sand,
coiling snakes,
prickly pear cactus,
and swaying lizard tails;
but here there is no disillusionment
in mirages,
works of jealous, angry gods,
just a knowledge of the
nurturing honey-colored earth
as abundant and pure as the
air, blue sky, and bright red sun
Photo Source: Scandblue on Flickr
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