Desert Height

Standing up on the desert world.
See the parched dust extend
far out, beyond world's bent
bend away, beneath a scorching sky.

It is a bare height here
A barren height,
outcropping of rock, desolate.
They tried to grow a tree here, once
there it is, wind blasted,
dust whipped,
Its twisted twig branches stretched out
dry.

The ragged wind catch my lungs
Blast my breath, catch my throat
dry my mouth with your dust
the sandpaper-dust of centuries

They say a man and woman, once
tried here to live
They had a garden here, but
Their hands could not take the wind
water ceased, crop failed, the deed was lost
long ago.

Dust of centuries, blasted by the burning sun
scorched beneath, miles and miles stretch
of centuries of centuries of dust
The waterless wind carries in far away
and scours the rock,
I breath the rasping raging wind
dry

Look! There, they are planting a tree
--but it is a killed tree
a dead tree, a death tree
planted to kill a man--
waterless wind blast his face,
on this barren height, this skull rock
The dust of centuries of centuries of centuries
hurl on their waterless rage, windblast, sandblast, heatblast,
scour, the living-dying man
on this barren rock.

I will open rivers on the bare heights,
make the wilderness a pool of water,
dry land springs of water

Opening at my feet, the rock heaves
apart, and there comes rushing up
a river,
a river of water.

For the rivers of God, are full
of water.