Deserts Seldom Weep

The sand that ate the sea

Stands naked before an open sky,

Its clusters of weed

And the occasional leafless branches

Pay homage to and lament over

Its voracious appetite,

Gorging itself

Thousands of years ago,

Consuming and burying deep In its belly

All that swam,

Grew,

And flourished,

Only to became Time’s culinary obsession,

A sit down banquet extending deep into the fathoms of existence.

Now…

Dune storms reveal carcasses of shell and bone,

Anchors of ancient vessel ghosts,

As swirls of granular regret rise

As if having visited all the deceased,

Taking flight above the ancestral cover,

Eventually exhausting itself,

Descending back to its burial grounds

Where sadness of loss

Reveals itself through the emaciated courage of Nature.

Heaven’s tear-ducts remain dry,

Emptied long ago.