High Desert ~ Samantha Rose

Salmon sunset cracks open

the celestial skull of the desert like an egg,

pouring light in the empty space

that kisses the mountain ridges.

 

Sagebrush grabs pools of glittering sand

between its greedy roots.

Droplets of sunlight leap from the ground

as if violently repelled by earth’s core,

 

filling up the atmosphere

like a golden goblet, as the bolting,

ethereal silhouette of a jackrabbit

drinks up the drops of light like fine wine.

 

Here, emptiness has more gravity than matter,

vacuities ablaze,

vacancies illuminated,

voids dazzling brilliance.

 

Light exists solely in cracks and crevices,

spaces unpossessed by mass,

uncontaminated by substance,

let alone by presence.

 

So we drain ourselves of sorrow like a sinkhole

and abandon baggage on the dusty trails.

And with nothing blotting out the path before us,

we race the sun on the long drive home.

 

© Copyright Samantha Rose 2018

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You can catch more of Samantha existing at her blog, Existential Poetry.