In the Desert

The Temptation of Mirage

by Diane Lockward

Save your water and green vegetation.
What I want is the desert.

Keep your deciduous pines,
the solace of shade and shadows.

Give me starkness on the horizon,
predictability of beige and brown.

Let me suffer the heat and burn,
air so hot it undulates in sine waves,

and the illusion of water,
the levitation of lake.

Not one human for hundreds of miles,
eternity of sand, an open-air coffin.

Everything fixed and final,
except the night-blooming cereus,

its creamy petals like white silk,
Cinderella in the desert,

narcotic fragrance of the skin,
sweet, juicy pulp of the fruit,

red as a splash of blood,
for one night only, quench of beauty

more real than I can bear,
closed forever by morning sun.

The Wolf

According to Native American traditions, a wolf is both a teacher and a pathfinder, guiding the people on their neverending journey through life and beyond.

What a wonderful animal to have as a spirit guide!

The Direction of Light

"The Direction of Light"

by Linda Hogan

New stones have risen up earth's labor
toward air. Everything rises,
the ocean in a cloud,
the rain forest passing
above our heads.
Children grow inch by inch
like trees in a graveyard,
victors over the same gravity
that pulls us down.
Even our light continues
on through the universe, and do we stop to
wonder who will see it
and where,
when the light of this earth is gone?
May there long be our light.



And then it falls. Shades are pulled down
between two worlds, clouds fall
as rain. Light returns
the way rain from Brazil falls
in New York and the green parrots
in their cages feel it, shake their
feathers, and remember home
and are alive
and should they be thankful
for that gift
or should they curse like sailors and grieve?

I tell the parrots,
I too have wanted to give up
on everything
when what was right turned wrong
and the revolutionaries who rose up
like yeast in life's bread, turned
against those who now rise up.



That's why I take the side of light--
don't you?--with the weight of living
tugging us down and earth wanting us back
despite great thoughts and smiling faces
that are prisons in between
the worlds of buying
and selling even the parrots
we teach to say "Hello."

Hello. Did I call this poem
the direction of light?
I meant life
so let this word overthrow the first
and rise up to the start.

How to Love

" Love extravagantly!"

--Corinthians 13:13

(Trying the b&w effect with snow. Converted from color.)