Place of Refuge

Place of Refuge

11 March 2011

desert sun

all photos by Makropoulos
In the desert,
I forgot my name.
I was no longer
my other name,
no longer
a person with profession
and rank;
I was just


grateful for the opportunity to mingle
with dust
and rock
and heat.

I did not write there,
I had no words -- the blue 
of the sky
and the ever changing hue
of the earth
became my only word.

And I felt an absolute
contentment to be in awe,
and utterly overwhelmed
by the earth we live on.

Comfort can be found from simply knowing
one's place.

1 comment:

Debra She Who Seeks said...

Now I'm going to have that song "I've been through the desert on a horse with no name" running through my head all day.