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Spring, 2006
There’s not much to find on this old survey
Nothing but old, rusted tin cans and
Scattered flaked stone.
But the beautiful, brilliant desert
Showers me with her quiet, desolate beauty.
The tall, green creosote bushes overflow with
Yellow blossoms, and
The beavertail cacti are showing off hot pink
Flashes for as far as the eye can see.
The globemallow – oh, the glorious globemallow
With her bright orange petals.
The cholla are just beginning to show their
Succulent yellow flowers and the ratany
Are alight with masses of delicate purple blooms.
The Utah desert has chosen late spring to come alive,
To paint the earth with drops and strokes of every color.
She blooms in crevices, out of bedrock, and along the dry washes.
I look out to the horizon, past all of the desert blooms,
And find that the sun has turned the sandstone to
The west the most shocking pink I’ve ever seen.
I am surrounded in beauty. A beauty more real,
Enveloping, and pure than I’ve ever known.
The desert speaks to me – in yellows, pinks, greens, and purples.
She is alive.
She is alive in me.
A Love Poem for Zion Canyon
Zion Canyon, I love you.
I love you in the winter, spring, summer, and fall.
I love your quiet slumber, in the winter,
When your peaks are covered in snow.
I love your springtime blossoms, peeking out
From the canyon walls, and from under the cottonwood trees.
I love your gentle surrender to the
Warmer air, and the sunny, clear skies.
I even love you in the heat of summer, when
The hot sun washes away your brightness at 2 PM.
I know the heat will fade with the arrival of
Dusk, and your pinks, purples, and oranges will
Spill across the canyon walls again.
I love you in autumn, Zion, when your crowds fade,
The river quiets, and the cottonwood trees
Begin to yield to the shorter days.
I love you.
I love your hanging gardens, your smooth river rocks,
And the peacefulness with which you envelop me.
I surrender to you, always.
I love your ridiculously high ridges, your narrow ledges,
And the relentless flow of the river.
Your spirit, Zion, heals me, and I love you
With wild abandon, boundless energy, and
Unyielding desire.
For you, my dear, this love poem is a gift.
Thank you.
Summer’s Retreat
Oh sweet Dixie
Your summer sun is beginning its slow retreat
The melody of your hot august heat
Is past its crescendo
And now becomes a quiet autumn hymn
Your handsome cottonwoods
Are turning from their proud green
To a warm, golden yellow as
The leaves blanket the springs
That bubble beneath the canopy
Oh my sweet, sweet Dixie
I feel your relief within me
I sense your sighs, your release
Your surrender, your hibernation
Weary, your red hills long for rest
Let me sink into your soft, cool dunes as you
Wrap me with the warmth of an early autumn sun
I will visit you in my silent meditations
Asking nothing of you
But to let me breathe amongst your quiet desert hills.
Suzanne Eskenazi is an archaeologist living and working in Las Vegas, Nevada. She has lived in the Mojave desert for the past 8 years.
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