• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 11
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Desert Eye

Desert eye
crystal ball of primordial secrets;
what it means to be wild
what it means
to be free –

what it means to feel
and know things
that slip through the sieves of logic
like water little hands
fail to grasp.

Desert eye
I see the graphs of canyons
In your cornea, your iris
where once you ran

where once we all ran
against time and concrete,
evolutions and revolutions,
the modern constructs
we saddle ourselves with –

chainmail for protection
from who we are
and what we know
if only we allowed ourselves


Desert Eye

to run, unbridled
and listen to the rumbles
of the earth
beneath our feet
the fluxes of our surroundings

the longing in the stray souls
we all harbour
to connect –
the instincts we all rein in
and train to stay silent

and obey in light of hard evidence –
missing out
on the primordial secrets
that burn like embers
within our desert eyes.