I am a desert, dry, barren and desolate. The thoughts that live on me are dead or dying of thirst. I haven’t been able to grow anything in years. My sands spin and kick when the slightest breeze stirs. Clouds roll in on either side of me, other lands get the waters of life, from the simple drizzle to the all mighty flood. I get nothing, not a drop of moisture in the air. Oh god why can’t I have any rain, I need it, I dream it. One shower is enough to quench a thirst that has lingered in this deserts throat. My thoughts are dying and the heavens mock me with their clear blue hue, bright and sunny days, brilliantly stared nights. Then one day I felt a rumble, thin and dry thoughts came out to have a look. The sky turned grey with clouds, the heavens veiled with her masses. A strike of lightning and a pond of thunder, she opened her arms and embraced me with sweet water, loving water. It drizzled, it rained, it flooded, she washed away all the dirt, sand, dead, and dryness. She took it all away and left only the clean, the green the strong… she left life. From the flood came new thoughts born from those that lived to see her come. She stayed and healed me, fed me and my thoughts. A flower grew, the most beautiful in the land. A flower of all colors known and unknown. My first flower, my first spring. Then a wind blew, it swirled her, confused her, took her. The wind chilled the rain I had stored in me, it made my ground freeze, killing thoughts and eventually my flower. It killed my flower, the wind killed our flower. I dried slowly after that, painfully watching thoughts die. Seeing my ground turn back to sand. Watching as once again I was dry and dead. I am a desert, barren and desolate.
Published by Cesarolivares
i am a writer; poetry, short story, novel and screenplay (trying anyway). story telling is is an obsession of mine. View all posts by Cesarolivares