Heat pulses; unbelievable
undulations pumping
the abstractions of the desert.
Sweat in my eyes.
But growing weary of matter
brings not the coolness of Spirit,
rather the dawning conviction
of matter's unreality.
Turning from the sinking sands
of tedium
to swim in the streams
of God's provision
my parched flesh is refreshed.
Tears of joy and laughter
in my eyes.
