Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Raymond Greiner

Photo by Mwabonje on

The desert appears lifeless, void of color. No cathedrals only isolation, heat and blinding sun. One must hike the desert’s long trail to understand it. Hunker down on a cold desert night while scorpions sleep in your boots.

The bright sunrise is welcome. Less so at zenith as streaming heat and harshness renew. As I gaze at the desert’s floor, I question. Is there life here I do not see?

Intensity eludes description as the burden of time flashes images biting back at loneliness in a medley of memories reminiscing joyful times, with laughter and the agile gestures of youth. Years pass swiftly, and legacy lingers. Late life trails offer lower hills with new vistas in a less cluttered spectrum.

Despair lurks to be fought with vigor, as new life comes with each rising sun. Life is abundant in this desolate place, beyond reason and logic, horned toads, jackrabbits, Gila monsters, tarantulas and snakes. Plants appearing dead have roots running deep, bringing blossoms when rare rainfall comes. One wonders how such life can endure. Where is water? Look closely; cactus is prickly outside, but succulent inside, offering flowers of magnificent beauty.   

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