Along the pitted plains I walk
air putrid and hostile to the senses
the flesh of my soles searing with heat,
and the meat of my heart equally worn.
Above, vultures...men of misfortune
their diabolical countenances mocking me
the blackness of their misshapen wings
whipping the thick desert air
and screaming defiance
Beneath, scorpions and snakes --
coral, viper, sidewinder...
paradigms of pleasure misguided
each condemning with forked tongue,
while wallowing in his own damnation.
My limbs are leaden, sticks of marrow
buried alive in the sands of the living.
Miles away -- an oasis! A singular symbol
of salvation. Of refuge. Of hope.
I lurch closer...lungs octane hot
reaching,
reaching,
and FINDING --
a Messiah, hands outstretched, smiling kindly,
an understanding of this hellish
No Woman's Land and its cruel terrain.
I seek embrace, like an emaciated oaf
blistery legs fighting against
the gravity of the sand, eyes squinting
into the sun, insect bitten arms grasping
for the sanctuary of his robes....
For once, maybe five seconds of an eternity,
I feel his love envelope me, sustain me...
Silent assurance in this No Woman's Land.
His hands, icy-cool, stroke my temples and
lift the sweat-laden hair from my pale eyes
and, as I struggle to speak...
...He nods
a complete knowing look --
the last look before my death.
Enid Writer's Club - Writing Club in Oklahoma!
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