The Tumbleweed Prayer
The sun is setting in the west
While crowned in gold, the eastern crest
Stands sentry in its scrubs and sighs
Offering its sage advice
A single lizard darts about
Driven forth by searing drought
Towards healing waters beckoning
Seeking Horeb’s rocky spring
Among the endless rocks and weeds
Between regrets and sinful deeds
Above, a pale blue sky so clear
Who knew that Heaven was so near
And through it all, this wayward soul
Uprooted outcast, blindly rolls
By gentle zephyrs carried on
Comforted by desert psalms.
Copyright © Ina Goodling | Year Posted 2022
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