It Is To Be

Sun down in Death Valley It is to be The memory of white branded heat Falls away so fast Dissolving in flashes of sagebrush shadows The long flat bands of sand Submerged in desert darkness, the sky A wall of impassive indigo The moon a ghost, ancient When the sun was young To walk this vast Wind pricked emptiness Is to feel the grim beauty of nature As our dust parched pioneers did As windows of timeless reverence Here is abandonded the Plushy comforts of convenience Here, the night gives you nothing But silence and stars