state of confusion
We climb a mountainous desert, to a beckoning Indian spring,
buzz of insect traffic jams, sun doing tangos on skin.
Brightness of the pure sky, assures a memorable night,
milky weave, falling stars let go to vigilís light.
A hot, magical brew bubbles up from the molten core,
we soak away dusty roads, both traveler and explorer,
pondering natureís powers, how swiftly we forget
letís join the heavenly show, oh death,
do not come yet.
© 2000 CM Bailey
[This message has been edited by Corinne (edited 03-16-2000).]