From the desert

Over a sea of sand we rode today, dunes poised like ocean waves in ever-ebbing prayer.  Rise and fall, the sand like water, in another time, to a rhythm so slow though our eyes watch they bear not witness to the change.  Their crests adorned in black shadows and yellow sun, seams run in smooth snaking patterns across painted vertices.  Frozen as slowly shifting statues in eternal dance, they await the changing winds as a dancer’s feet listen for a new beat from the drum.  Ancient waves erected by fossils of creatures seeking immortality, ghostly reminders of a long lost sea. 

And in the mist of golden dust, a lake, a single tear shed by the blue-eyed forest goddess the night her father told her the men in the desert had ne’r felt the shade of a tree.  From her sorrow sprouted a great oasis with lush springs and palms.  And so we bathed in sparkling tears and feasted upon dates and mint tea. 

Then onward we sailed through an imaginary squall as Ali Khaled, our driver, skillfully navigated the steep sand cliffs.  From crest to trough we dove, drunken dolphins on a joyride, tumbling blindly down the faces of dunes.

We returned to our senses just in time to bid farewell to the lava sun and ask it to remember us to our fellows from lives past who are living this time around on the other side of the Earth. 

Then off to the Million Stars Camp for dinner, dancing and a drum I could play only for a few trancelike moments before my mind realized what my hands were doing and stopped them short with its thought.  Thoughts thoughts thoughts, won’t you be silent thoughts?  How I long to lose myself in silence so that I may hear the beat of the drum…