The real desert
is a space between the mountains.
A hollow in the green and watered Earth.
It stretches out
and fills with its own emptiness;
the silence is crowded
by a thousand unheard things.
Its song of wind blows and blows
drifting the sands about.
I watch the long, lonely dance.
It is never and always the same.
is a space between the mountains.
A hollow in the green and watered Earth.
It stretches out
and fills with its own emptiness;
the silence is crowded
by a thousand unheard things.
Its song of wind blows and blows
drifting the sands about.
I watch the long, lonely dance.
It is never and always the same.