I’m on my face with gratitude sprawled across a big bed on a platform overlooking cacti that send out burrs that hurt worse than childbirth and glow in the dark as well as light, high desert tesselating in every direction, air hot and light.
…that I’ve Seen landscapes like this in my triple children’s eyes &sketched them out in jungle and at the foot of pyramids as best as I could- that I’m already at not “i remember ” but “i am grateful you let me see-” speaks to the validity of truth…in the stories that shout out to us louder than any tapes we might have run.
You see baby Joshua Trees running up mountains of boulders heaped like rubble…and you want to cry out at the beauty of them striving for the hilt of life against winds that have felled many a man, cheering them on, rooted, though they run. You feel the humanity of trees in all its ancient creed out here…
And the air…there is a sweetness to this ether, maybe from the creesia or sun soaked rocks crumbling through time at your feet everywhere you look or could think to go…that makes you not forget the heat, but be thankful for it. I’ve never smelled desert like this- I will wake in the crook of it as long as God himself sees fit…and i will write.
A water birth, children born in pools of baca, puddles of god’s inherent joy.
I am in the desert, sleepy, hot, happy…and alive. Able to give birth to happy, giddy children entrusted to my mindscape across time.
Aolab runs to the high desert…GlobalBohotrek [sonics]