When I can no longer discern the path
when I am seeking a seer’s looking glass
I walk miles of desert alone, travel years from home
to stand hot or cold, in a wilderness, fragile or strong
in storms, sun sweltered and windblown.
I believe in fire, the burning into ashes reborn
look for defining lines, watch for the telling signs
I listen for the music of words, spoken softly sweet
for love notes, tucked in heart, to keep.