The Desert Comes Sometimes

The desert comes sometimes when I least expect it.
I wake up one morning,
open the door
and the sand stretches from my doorstep
to the horizon,
as far as I can see.

I might have felt the sting of it on my face
sometime in the days before –
a hot dry wind may have given me a hint of things to come.
But usually I am taken by complete surprise
or worse, I find myself wandering aimlessly
through the dunes, not knowing how I came to be in this place.

I know the desert
can dry your soul.
I know you can get lost.
I know that hope can get lost.
I know that crows
just look like crows
and not heavenly messengers.

(revised)