When the wind speaks to itself
in the desert
sheep keep on grazing
while shepherds
lift up their heads a bit –
looking for a sign.

When the wind sings a tune
in the desert
the sand dances
and the prophet gazes
intently into the future.

Silent and rolling
waves of hills
flow toward the horizon,
consciousness riding
along the crest.

For each time of day
there is the changing
of the color guard.
The silhouettes of morning
turn hazy in the afternoon
and then,
pink, red and purple promenade
in the kaleidoscope clouds
of the evening hue.

Each day has its beginning
and each life will reach its end;
footsteps in the sand
which are no longer –
still, every voice
and every step
are recorded in the dunes.

When the sun blazes
in the desert
shepherds gaze into the past
while prophets lift up their heads –
looking for a sign.