DESERT GRACE
The high desert calls to me in a way no other landscape does.
Undiluted colors stimulate my eyes and heart
and make my soul sing.
Each exhalation quivers in resonance with the land.
This connection is a mystery, I of the flat prairies.
Perhaps the potential drama speaks to me of history
past or yet to be.
Or do I simply hear the words of the Great Artist more deeply?
Light and darkness, too, are different here.
Dawn and dusk take longer as if hesitant to yield to the
fullness of day or night
knowing that half-spent, light holds more grace.
The high desert calls to me in a way no other landscape does.
Undiluted colors stimulate my eyes and heart
and make my soul sing.
Each exhalation quivers in resonance with the land.
This connection is a mystery, I of the flat prairies.
Perhaps the potential drama speaks to me of history
past or yet to be.
Or do I simply hear the words of the Great Artist more deeply?
Light and darkness, too, are different here.
Dawn and dusk take longer as if hesitant to yield to the
fullness of day or night
knowing that half-spent, light holds more grace.
posted by Pilgrim Path | 8:45 PM
1 Comments:
The half spent light holds more grace. Are you referring to life? Do our lives, in the spending, increase in grace? Perhaps. That would be hopeful.
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