“Lo how a rose e’er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung”
Two years in the desert.
Two days in the desert.
“She can be a bitch,” a monk
once warned me.
And he was right.
Her sands burn.
Her winds bite.
Her fruitless trees and cloudless
skies mock hunger, thirst and
loneliness.
But from time to time, she turns
from empty and destructive to
nurturing and majestic.
She sings songs of wisdom and
renewal.
I join her song: naked and
unbroken, shaken but unbound.
All things bloom in the rains of a
desert spring.
~ Corey Trujillo
(Click images to enlarge them)
