Untitled Poem

Sonoran Desert

untitled poem

October: thunder and heavy rain rattle the night,
brilliant flashes illuminate the face of darkness.

Soon the year will swallow its tail,
the ocotillo has dropped its leaves.

One of the wettest monsoons on record,
rain continuing into the dry season,
and still the desert's thirst is unabated.

As is mine, feeling unrooted, adrift still
after all this time, my 40 days of testing,
withering beneath a cruel sun.

But the seasons shift, each day follows
the next -- to what do we cling
when decay is often the only truth?

I go outside and stand in the rain,
drenched within seconds -- this is real truth:
all things come full circle.

Soon the year will swallow its tail,
and I am renewed, wet with baptismal.

Tags: untitled poem, Sonoran Desert, renewal, rain