Oasis

There is a caravan that wanders time,
traceless as the waves on a dune
while ocean and desert and wind
will them on, whirling in their circuit of
return to separation.

Will you stop, dear heart?
Can you lay your self aside
and saddle up to ride this
moving tide of sand and sea
that stretches me beyond
what can be born?

Come and walk with us, sweet soul,
we have been waiting just for you,
though the whole ocean
and all the desert’s gathered dust
and every wind of your world
wills us on.

Traces

Melodic kisses