Dreaming

The desert has been so wide,
no thought has been able to take root.

At once, a passing thought did tread,
only to die for lack of food and water;
relegated to delusion by way of miraging masquerade
for lack of moisture that might explore a truer shape.

Loneliness and wondering;
Loneliness and wandering.

The sun carves deep shadows and dries them
into the shape the arroyos take.

Thirst—
drought—
death…

Lightening—
storm—
flood—

Motions of notions,
so thick the whole earth could not contain them,
and caught, as I am, in this flash flooded desert,
I can barely grasp a single thread,
much less find my feet long enough
to follow any path that might be drawn.

Follow!  Follow us!  Follow us all!
taunt the silken strands of thought,
but I cannot stem their tide and bide,
and so caught in their merry pranking pools,
I drown.

© 2010 Elisabeth T. Eliassen