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Rain in the Desert
 
The desert sems quietly tolerant of rain -

not really indifferent,
but resigned to brief intrusions,
allowing for a brief change of scenery
from time to time.

It has learned to live without water,
and cloaks itself in browns and greys-
asking no compassion for its permanent appearance
It has existed a long arid time without pretense. 

Within its bosom, though 
are thirsty yearnings –
quivering with anticipation
as dark clouds form over the mountains,
and a cool vanguard breeze
reveals a coming storm.

The parched land relents,
allowing a robust encounter
as storms release their deluge- 
erasing old trails and rushing through dry arroyos,
in a frenzied dance.

Venerable old desert has seen it all before
and rides it out like a veteran, 
then yields for a while
as bright colors appear across once-barren land

Yucca, Saguaro, Desert Rose and Poppies
joyfully take their places
as they transform a wan stage into a Monet garden

Free for a while in the fresh bathed air
they offer allure to the weary scene
but they remain wary of arbitrary monsoons.
and cannot endure a long wait for clouds to turn dark again

So, like hurried dancers
leaving the stage as the curtain drops,
they make their reluctant exit
yielding once again to the rigid world of sand and stone
under a burning sun
.
                      ***                                                      
As evening arrives,
the desert makes its bed once again -
nods to a star- filled sky,
and smiles at the stubborn foolishness of roots and flowers

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