A desert runner from the rim
descends with purpose, bound by whim,
as frosted pines and snow recede
to canyon clefts that won’t impede
his entry, only stay escape
and drive him deeper, spread his wake
Brazen cliffs from front to rear:
oh desert runner, hold it near
and wonder what it means to be,
as river carries cliffs to sea
How much you pain to pass, not stay,
to live a sum of numbered days
and walk your trail unto its end
in hope your footsteps do amend
your shadows under sunlight cast,
redeemed in present, future, past,
humbly bent, in wisdom fast —
desert runner home at last
Written between May and June 2020
© 2020 Ilyas Taraki
notes from my iPhone 