He plays the melodies of Love
like wood on fire it burns desire
within my dusty emotions.
I fan the flames
seeking his likeness
in the stingy smoke;
run frantically
to find more fuel
in a death-daring white
Kalahari desert.
My pores expand
past sweat to blood
as his music starts
to fade in the distance.
And I am torn to return
or to keep searching
for something dead or living
buried in the steaming sand
where wood once stood
or a cache of skeleton bones
of unknown origin
or thorny cactus plants
to coax his melodies to stay
or if luck should meet me
an oasis shaded by a sandarac tree
to lend me a branch
a chance worth taking
to capture his sweet songs
and cage his rapture for my own!
Greedily I dig and crawl
his music all that matters
for my survival, even now
as it plays only in my mind.
The desert has abandoned me.
Too late now to return
as I lay face down
on hot, time worn grit
unable to stand or creep
or see as I am sand blinded!
I cry invisible tears
sucked dry and I try
to recall his melodies
with death's last breath
of my mortality.
He play the melodies of Love
like wood on fire;
free to share
but not to keep...
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