Sand

Empty Quarter


Sleeping sands wander,

Smooth and softly they fall,

Whispering with the patience of time.

The gentle ripples of gold and blood,

Effortlessly covering the works of empires and men

Follow the caress of the wind,

Rising, liquid in eternal motion,

These dunes are waves of a heaving sea.

Fiery, cold,

And open skies pitiless, with terrible beautiful blue,

And in darkness the dunes,

All Strewn with stars and velvet,

A jeweled vest, witness to the ages,

Before the winds take them again.

Stare into this desert and see the face of death on the sands.

Where the living contend,

And the dead tell their tales,

With silence clear and golden,

Or roaring clouds of fear,

The dunes roll patiently,

Its song always there,

Waiting for me