wandering from oasis to oasis
in the high desert-
the days seems endless
with only the ravens for company.
Once I thought there was someone,
someone the old men talked about,
someone who could bring bloom to the dry places
and honey from the stone.
I thought that there might be a way,
a light, a star to follow
that would lead to the right place
where that someone would be.
And I thought I would know when it happened
and that person would know me
and would call me by my real name.
And the ravens would become doves
and rise into the light
like angels in the desert sky.