The Desert

Mist gently caresses gray-brown rock, water seeps down, trickling, moistening parchment aged cracks.Tiny seeds waken, for never seen drops, bringing life to a seemingly desolate wasteland. Color splashes up through now wet soil, drawing the eye further away, on a dizzying spectacle of welling life . Drowning dry bleakness, under sweet joy, flowers sway against the warm breeze, sweeping life onward, into a ever weaving loom.

©1998, Christie Benson

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