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There is beauty here.
A beauty you cannot see
But perhaps must learn to sense
Through long acquaintance with
And understanding of
The desert’s ways.
There is magic here.
But first you must go the way
Of the elders before you
You do not know this way
It is a thorny path
You must endure.
There is wisdom here.
A harsh but loving wisdom
Learned by living daily
Close to the desert’s heart.
Spirits may meet you here.
Spirits may teach you here.
In the desert.
In the desert.
Winter Sun
Weak winter sun struggles, climbs the mesa
Reaches the rim, peeks into the valley
Her smile, warming the chilly creosote
Clouds chase the sun but cannot catch her as
She grows stronger, stretches higher in flight
Fingers of breezes left in her wake tease
The tattered Joshua tree that huddles
Unkempt, solitary as a hermit
On the edge of the mesa as the sun
Passes on her celestial pathway.
Time and Wisdom
Time, a healer
also a crippler
brings age
but wisdom too.
Wisdom to see the past as
follies unwittingly committed
Because
we
just
couldn’t
help it.
Follies, which taught us
Yet made us grow old
with the teaching.
We look back and smile at
the youth of ourselves,
We look back and cry
for youth’s mistakes
so willingly would
they be made again.
This time
This time
With wisdom as our guide.
Susanne J. Rowe is an artist, writer, and archaeologist who lives and works in the Mojave
Desert.
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