thick crimson soot, inhalation
of my being. Why do You see me,
when I blend so well with earth,
sister of moment lapping morning
silt from the stems of cacti,
matching the soft contractions
of stone in vibratory praise?
You are the chasm in upright
pillars of rock allowing daylight
to wash this shadow, to awaken
deep hues of desert into oceans
of blushing sand. You
are the perfection of a desert blossom
which drinks the sun,
but does not close in the night chill;
rather, You await the eye
of Your love under the silhouette
of stars. My God of distant Mountains,
the clouds suspended thick and cold
only long to be at your feet,
bleed rain to feel the burn
of Your touch on the skin of them,
and we both gaze in awe of You,
both soon to vanish,
desperate to diminish
in the sandstone of Your palms.
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