Through a window of time,
I am thrust into the desert.
The desert of my reflections,
A place to gather my dreams.
To set each out before me,
Exploring them one by one.
Turning them over and over,
Being careful not to impose.
A thorough examination,
Certainly they could not bear.
For like this desert floor,
To dust they would return.
My audience is oh so silent,
Their arms poised to embrace.
My presence received by silence,
Respect for my journey won.
The soulful cry of the coyote,
Signals the end of this meditation.
A return to the more mundane,
Leaves me wishing I could stay.
But I know this place awaits me,
Whenever I am ready to return.
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