I wait. . .

29 01 2016

Shiprock Dike

Arid air I breath;

dry bones yearn for movement;

desert sands burn.


Words no longer drip from my tongue.

Words from beyond are scarce.

I wait in barren time;

I wait. . .


Hope is thin like thread;

still, it holds me.


Presence eludes me – imperceivable;

still, a secret conversation stirs within – imperceptible.


I close my eyes;

Breath –

a prayer forms like dew. . .





Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: