The Moon Over the Mountain

It is five o'clock on a Sunday morning. One of my ever earlier desert awakenings. It would seem that one would sleep well in the desert and you do, but in segments I find. While the desert is eternally silent there are ghosts that wander thru its dunes and high deserts. The Joshua Tree Spirit for one, reaches its hands up to the sky in prayer at sunset while at the same time the mountain spirits roam the cliffs and pine forests under the crescent moon in search of other souls seeking sanctuary.

At times I find myself so filled with these silent offerings that my dreams become manifest in a surge of energy. Taking flight they are suspended over the valleys and mountains in a desert song. But when the moon and stars are aligned just right so as to caress the mountain tops and the planets embrace the desert dunes there are those magic moments of total tranquility that are so intense that they call out in silent verse and envelope me in their song.

It is then at sunrise, in the desert, under the the mountain that I live in the reality of life and love and memories yet to be made. Memories that will surely sustain me until the next desert sunrise and beyond. More than this is the promise that as long as there is the moon and the mountain everything else will follow in turn.