The Taunt and Mockery of Water
The Taunt and Mockery of Water
This desert has no other relationship to offer
Nothing but the dry ache of its thirst
And though its heat is enough to warm cold bones
Still the chill of its relentless dunes
Leaves the parched winds grip in the empty
Footprints before footsteps
In their circles wander
And return at sunrise to begin again
The walk of waterless sand
And in the stories of deserted sea
Three drops of rain could not set them free
A costume of sand is all there will ever be
Life does not look into the mirage so readily
To forget and think on lush and luxurious green
And loneliness is consigned with sunset savagery
To the arid tract
Where no one can hear its plea
For water
The same rocks tripped upon
The same empty cup fallen
The wavering heat a taunt and mockery
To an ocean
Should those footprints beckon you
To where bright days
Are no more than hollow and sunless memory
Beware such captured hope
It takes from you all that it could have been
Brittle and unforgiving the sky of dry and windswept leaves
Each one a reminder of your dreams
Dreams for a little rain to come and caress your soul
Before you became lost
In this no place to go
A little rain is your only plea
Water on which your blood will feed
Three little drops to set you free
To flood your being
And bring you finally
To the sea
Hard done by and done so unfairly
Any soul who has not been touched
By Love
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2008
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