The high winds were blowing thru the stone
mountains on the deserts,
stirring the fragile yellow cups on the sand,
and shaking the unusually long spikes
of the pink ocotillo
I stood breathing in the life
of the deserts, trembling inside,
imagining all the rich life forces
going on days and nights.
Reckoning how hard the cacti,
the joshua trees, the caterpillars
compete for water, food and sunlight
I felt a wave of gratefulness.
The call of love and life was somewhere
between the blue sky
and the laughter of the boys climbing
the yellow stone mountain peaks.
Pleasingly I moved on.