Out There

Walking through the hills I found

That deserts are quite dry

The sagebrush tells a stilling tale

And it’s you who must ask why.

 

Leaving off the finer things

To bask in natures iron fist

The wind blows dust across the hills

And comfort is what’s truly missed.

 

I embarked with thoughts on fire

And had them quenched with biting sand

The mother’s blowing chill desire

Is to see me in the land.

 

Death seems but a step away

And all the wishing is quite sad

But wind is blowing sand around

And happiness cannot be had.

 

So looking for the better thing

I walked into the waiting hills

And climbed upon the crumbling rocks

Until my soul had had its fill.

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6 thoughts on “Out There

  1. Very, very well-crafted, indeed; Betty and Soulwalker! I am always amazed at how your straightforwardness becomes so enchanting. Yes, “I lift my eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help…”: we must climb up away from whatever mars our vision in order to fill our souls! Very memorable!

  2. i have to admit there are many of your pieces of which my soul has not had its fill =) i feel the grit, the sun, the heat, and hear the whispering sagebrush…transformative imagery =)

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