Morning in the Desert (a poem)

Watching the horizon, bright sun rising above
baking the desert this lonely morning

I came here for mystical union, total silence
but the mighty sun cares not this morning

What of the Desert Fathers, who searched for love
retreated to their cells in the morning?

Did they unlock secrets, away from violence
find perfect solitude in quiet mornings?

I’ve read their books, listened to their tales,
but the words escape me this morning

I want my eyes to be removed of scales,
like St. Paul seeing Jesus in the morning

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Desert-tan (a poem)

dear jesus, help me create

a life that’s noble,

not absorbed in the

hurry of moderns –

not clamoring for my

next fix – let my fix

be you, the real you

desert-tan & calloused feet

from walking miles &

healing wretches like me

(Photo by Robert Thiemann on Unsplash)

Orange Sky (a poem)

Desert sands of deception

flames of futility

growing in the wilderness

under an orange sky

baking us at record temps –

Our Planet is dying

screaming, crying

and she’s angry.

(Photo from Insider.com)

Note: This poem was a meditation on the wildfires happening in California right now. I haven’t read much about them, but I do know that much of it is being caused by the increasing damage of man-made climate change.

The Poet’s Curse (a prose poem)

You humiliated the Netherworld Poet + now you must pay – the only way to avoid his curse is to sacrifice your first-born son. The Poet cackles like a hyena on arid plains of this sun-soaked frontier – you dared question his knowledge of tribe + kingdom that’s your birthright to lead.

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