LOVE is two pairs of footprints
Impressed in the sand.
Will you ever walk beside me
And together go home?
Love is sunlight that makes
A flower turn its way.
Do you promise always
To be a light for my soul?
ALONG the way
Birds whistle a tune
As if to set a mood
But I know not what to say.
The figure slowly thickens
In the distance;
My heart beats fast –
My gait quickens.
From a dry rut
He approaches
And opens the conversation
One eye shut.
IN museum storage somewhere
Much jaded, with little care
Heaps of antiques are just sitting
Fitting in every void
In every crevice there.
Love letters of a distant war
Long ago reached who they were for.
A dentist’s chair reclines
Declines to function.
A mannequin keeps a sly demeanor.
A switchboard retires from calls
Beside a dollhouse that still models.
A valiant fire truck no longer deploys.
Poised to dance
Are the boxed kachina dolls.
The stories they could tell
Might surprise, humble or dispel
If ever again they see the spotlight
Right by the floor artifacts
But here in darkness they dwell.
HINTS OF A SUBTLE NATURE
For yet another moment, I'm concerned
About a man from whom I've observed
Hints of a subtle nature of which I'm unsure.
I need to figure out what it means
When in conversing the other day he seemed
The slightest bit friendlier than before
And when he swiped aside my fallen hair
An electric touch thus far never shared
Something which I felt to my inner core.
More than ever, he meets my eyes thoughtfully
And without effort, a spell seems magically
Cast my direction with the intent to allure.
Then yesterday I engaged in random humor
And I heard what is his true laughter
One a little different in length than before.
Now I know my heart remains in conflict
So I wait and hope that his love be authentic.
HAPPY eyes need not the sun
For they, like yours, have a light of their own
A cutting light the demons shun
That confesses to a kind, ageless soul.
Brown upon brown, they draw me in;
I can’t look away nor could I leave
One who burns with a burning passion
With an innocence I dare not displease
And when I look into your eyes
My loneliness is burnt to a dry ember.
I know your happiness derives
From within and they who see remember.
Shine for others, shine for me
But forget not that they’re mine to own
Mine to write of with jealousy;
Your eyes alone are worthy of a poem.
A NICE recourse of sleep
Take when the day goes wrong.
Calm blessings you'll then reap
Once you enter a dreamscape long.
Yes, take to bed and tears will dry.
Arise to a memory in the distance.
You'll not need to question after why
When you'll have a better day spent.
MY friend once sighed
That he watches planes fly by
And wonders where they’re going.
The world’s tempo beats on.
I, too, prefer to stop along
The way and watch a small thing.
I congratulate the weed
That grew from a wayside seed
And survives in the sidewalk’s crack.
I notice when raindrops descend
That the roads shine iridescent
Then dry again to a flat black.
I observe a bird’s funny walk –
Watching its head bob and cock –
Such a comedian!
I sit aside the freeway by the river
To watch busy cars drive there –
So calm I am.
THE ELUSIVE LADY
The Moon became quietly jealous
One night when I surveyed Venus.
The usual glory reserved for her
Went to the dancer with Perseus.
At first, she passed for a star
Sparkling high above a church roof
But as she moved down further
Her ample speed gave proof.
Outgoing clouds didn’t shroud
The evening sky of cerulean blue.
Enchanted, I stayed around
To observe her quick rendezvous.
Fair Venus shined like a jewel
Like one worthy to be set in a ring.
Because she was so beautiful
She sent a jaded Moon waning.
The wide net of the Milky Way
Was cast and had failed to pull her in.
She outshined the Dog Star
And had evaded sly Orion
And as the Sun moved below
He teased her with stealing her glory.
She lusted for that power
And disappeared after him shortly.
Tho’ I know her general stream
And her light is brilliant and dense –
She’s been gone. I haven’t seen
The Elusive Lady since.
POVERTY is expensive
To those already poor -
Costing their time, wages
And spirit, yet they live
A hopeful porter
In their villages -
Subject to elitism.
I, for one, never
Received an invitation.
A SWIRL of amaretto
Revolves in my coffee -
Like a galaxy -
Shimmering and slow.
Dawn is utterly quiet;
Moon beams - thin and long -
Cleave to the flooring
Each protracted moment.
THE cemetery is alive
With freshly cut mums and poinsettias.
Gathering people make it even more abuzz.
A crisp wind blows
Over each receding blade of grass –
Slowly turning them the color of brass.
A handful of tombstones –
Sun-dappled underneath oak trees –
Are scratched by fallen amber leaves.
The crucifixion mound
Overlooking it inspires the Christmas spirit
Within the hearts of those who visit.
BEHOLD the marvelous wildflowers!
How they boldly carpet a sloping glen –
Our gift from Earth’s seasonal showers.
Hardly is the desert recognizable
Come March to an untrained eye when
Spring has announced herself in full
Except for occasional saguaros –
The perennial observers to this annual display –
Perched on the precarious ledge they chose.
Penstemon and globe mallow are in glee;
Even the palo verdes celebrate
By showering the ground with yellow confetti.
ON a breezy desert morning
While the city's people still slept –
With my worries inwardly kept –
I sat upon a curb, pondering.
Up the trunk of a stately bottle tree –
My gaze followed to heaven.
A starry sky gave no premonition –
The crickets serenaded me sweetly.
Set against royal blue, I spied
Vega's steady, baby blue shimmer.
Because it calmed my inner tremor –
I continued to fixate my eyes.
Suddenly, I watched a silvery streak
Strum the harp strings of Lyra.
Before my breath could catch in awe –
The stoked ember went out in a blink.
AS empty as the future
So is a soaked page
Whose ink has run off.
I hope to be the author;
A new and boundless decade
Awaits my pen's touch.
OH little mezuzah!
Like gold of Havilah –
A parchment scroll worthy
To keep words Moses wrote –
With words of eternity
Egypt's firstborn were smote.
Beckon angels, I pray;
Turn the demons away.
Reflect a little starlight –
How it sparkles of gold!
Comfort me in the night
From the cold unknown.
Remember its power;
Remember the Passover.
WINDOW ROCK
Years of rain and wear created a window rock –
Letting the sunshine come through –
Revealing a pristine sky of baby blue
In sharp contrast to the red, jagged basalt.
I stood underneath in a large room.
My body was bathed in a ghostly glow.
My head was crowned with a white halo
And a distinct unsettling feeling did loom.
Like a giant magnifying glass to heaven –
My murky soul was searched for virtues.
I questioned myself – What is truth?
I was challenged to be a better person.
I was answered that within every saint –
Big and small, that has ever been –
There coexists purity and sin.
Down the hillside I climbed, feeling different.
GENTLE Earth, I beg of you –
Whisper to us the first sign of spring.
Annul this wintry despair
And a season of life anew, bring.
From the depths of Baja
Carry the warmth in upon a draft.
Poke the sunshine through grumbly clouds
And send it down as a gilded shaft.
Clothe the desert with the raiment
Of fleeting sheets of white rain.
Implore the wildflowers that they
Bestow upon us a fantastic display.
Help the button-face of the brittlebush
Peep over the dead, crumpled brush.
Bring forth the canyon penstemon.
Make the Mexican lime cactus flush.
With one stroke of rain
Paint the delicate creosote yellow.
Order the Engelmann’s cactus to raise
Their trumpets of fuchsia and blow.
Tempt forth the birds to sing – hark!
I beg, usher in March.
A MILKY-EYED mourning dove
Sat upon a tombstone - tacit -
Inside the grounds of St. Francis
To admire a cache betroved.
A sentinel's duty - it bears -
Not broken by a morning beam -
Even the shuffle of the wind
Could not disturb the atmosphere.
The dove - it eyed me peacefully -
Let out a feathered sigh.
I felt it - walking on by -
That blessed serenity.
HIDING in an empty room
To have a minute with myself –
I sat on a plush chair
And sank about as low as I felt.
Heaving, I lied, saying
In my head – All is well.
Ticklish electricity then
Stirred the surrounding air.
Slowly, I felt the sensation
As of a fly entangled in my hair
Except two little tugs followed.
I turned – alas – nobody there!
PINK is the morning sun ablaze.
Gray is the balmy air.
Purple is the city's haze.
Brown is the wren's bleary stare.
White is the glistening dew.
Night – adieu!
GOOD morning, fair cardinal –
How are you?
How are your children?
Your plumage is nearly outdone
By the sun's golden hue.
The mattress is firm –
My blanket is coolly sheer.
What's that?
Come outside, be with us?
Sorry, my bed is too cozy a lair.
MIDNIGHT
Seizuring so as if escaping from fright
You awoke suddenly near about midnight
Then rolled over meeting my body halfway
By instinct, drew nearer and kissed me straight away.
Your cheek, always soft, nestled against mine.
Your muscular hand came to rest upon my thigh.
In my ear, your breath came like wind rushing.
By the touch of your tepid skin, I sensed flushing.
My eyes perused you in the moonlight
Convincing me for a moment that all was right.
You fell again to sleep peacefully it seemed
Perhaps to dream that time a pleasant dream.
SWEAT is the other garment
You wear in the desert
When the only water is in the cactus
And all but the flies are inert
But a cool layer of sweat
Is a hiker's proof of award
For taking a thin trail
And in curiosity, moving forward.
THE treetop glimmers outside my window
As light, dancing upon the leaves –
Shimmers off each leaf in soft yellow.
From afar, my attention is retrieved
By light, pure and perfectly aglow.
In the wind, swaying gently –
Each leaf is twirled as a ballerina –
Playing with my fragile jealousy.
I think I hear in the wind a viola –
Oh light, would you dance with me?
SPRING days like these
Were made for katie ruellia –
Who is royalty among flowers –
Robed delicately in purple.
There – she arrived for the festivities
As the trumpeters blow their sennet.
Her crown is the leaves –
The butterflies – her subjects.
I HEARD my name called in the wind –
Stirring up in my heart a thrill.
Neither a person at the trail bend
Nor stationed upon the hill
Did this phenomenon portend.
A second stronger wind waxed –
Rushing through the valley.
Hearing my name again, I was vexed.
By the rattling of bursage leaves –
The calling out was masked.
As the wind came, it hushed as quickly.
It waited for what I'd do next.
I listened – the valley was still.
Spirit of goodness –
I whispered – or of evil –
I bid, let me pass
If that be your will.
SWEET CRICKETS
Sweet crickets, the tune
You’re playing tempts me to sleep.
By your tune I will drift off
Better to a place dark and deep.
The low moon and toads
As well as I are your audience.
Why, even the saguaro blooms
Have opened with interest!
The night shall soon bend over
And kiss my eyelids closed.
From Earth’s port into the sky
Of oblivion, I shall make my abode.
But should I judge your tune
To be my favorite solace
Promise me you’ll return
One night to play for me again.
CHRISTMAS CINQUAINS
There hangs the old presence of Christmas cheer
But the cloak of wintry air keeps me here.
Let the others dance
While we share romance.
Stay close beside me, my love.
Hear the joyous carolers faintly sing –
How their brass bells carry far as they ring!
The wind will soon blow
In the overnight low.
Stay close beside me, my love.
All is well. How fierce the fire log crackles!
Heat teases our toes and warms our ankles.
The tree lights glitter.
The candles flicker.
Stay close beside me, my love.
In love and comfort, my needs are fulfilled
But the weather will do whatever it will.
By your warm embrace
You make my heart race.
Stay close beside me, my love.
VILLANELLE #1
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When I dreamt that big dreams would come true
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
Fate is made hard by the evil thoughts of men.
Tho' I strove for good, ill luck accrued.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When life was unscripted, the future was golden.
Dreams burned as bright as the morning sun's hue
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
Power is the motive behind the heart's assassin.
Thus, life hurts like a sword turned in the wound.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When I sought in vain the faith of a paladin
Who'd champion my cause, to be approved
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
God curses both the righteous and the wicked
But punishment without fault seems cruel.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
VILLANELLE #2
Through this character is learnt:
By loneliness and challenge
In the silence of the desert.
Only in solitude do trials impart
Permanent lessons, not in a village.
Through this character is learnt:
Necessity is taught by thirst.
Life is worthy at the canyon ridge
In the silence of the desert.
It's learnt by listening to a calm heart
Not by the horror of war's carnage.
Through this character is learnt:
Knowing Adam prevailed when cursed.
Humility became his wage
In the silence of the desert.
Your strengths matter here first.
Worldly views become abridged.
Through this, character is learnt
In the silence of the desert.
Impressed in the sand.
Will you ever walk beside me
And together go home?
Love is sunlight that makes
A flower turn its way.
Do you promise always
To be a light for my soul?
ALONG the way
Birds whistle a tune
As if to set a mood
But I know not what to say.
The figure slowly thickens
In the distance;
My heart beats fast –
My gait quickens.
From a dry rut
He approaches
And opens the conversation
One eye shut.
IN museum storage somewhere
Much jaded, with little care
Heaps of antiques are just sitting
Fitting in every void
In every crevice there.
Love letters of a distant war
Long ago reached who they were for.
A dentist’s chair reclines
Declines to function.
A mannequin keeps a sly demeanor.
A switchboard retires from calls
Beside a dollhouse that still models.
A valiant fire truck no longer deploys.
Poised to dance
Are the boxed kachina dolls.
The stories they could tell
Might surprise, humble or dispel
If ever again they see the spotlight
Right by the floor artifacts
But here in darkness they dwell.
HINTS OF A SUBTLE NATURE
For yet another moment, I'm concerned
About a man from whom I've observed
Hints of a subtle nature of which I'm unsure.
I need to figure out what it means
When in conversing the other day he seemed
The slightest bit friendlier than before
And when he swiped aside my fallen hair
An electric touch thus far never shared
Something which I felt to my inner core.
More than ever, he meets my eyes thoughtfully
And without effort, a spell seems magically
Cast my direction with the intent to allure.
Then yesterday I engaged in random humor
And I heard what is his true laughter
One a little different in length than before.
Now I know my heart remains in conflict
So I wait and hope that his love be authentic.
HAPPY eyes need not the sun
For they, like yours, have a light of their own
A cutting light the demons shun
That confesses to a kind, ageless soul.
Brown upon brown, they draw me in;
I can’t look away nor could I leave
One who burns with a burning passion
With an innocence I dare not displease
And when I look into your eyes
My loneliness is burnt to a dry ember.
I know your happiness derives
From within and they who see remember.
Shine for others, shine for me
But forget not that they’re mine to own
Mine to write of with jealousy;
Your eyes alone are worthy of a poem.
A NICE recourse of sleep
Take when the day goes wrong.
Calm blessings you'll then reap
Once you enter a dreamscape long.
Yes, take to bed and tears will dry.
Arise to a memory in the distance.
You'll not need to question after why
When you'll have a better day spent.
MY friend once sighed
That he watches planes fly by
And wonders where they’re going.
The world’s tempo beats on.
I, too, prefer to stop along
The way and watch a small thing.
I congratulate the weed
That grew from a wayside seed
And survives in the sidewalk’s crack.
I notice when raindrops descend
That the roads shine iridescent
Then dry again to a flat black.
I observe a bird’s funny walk –
Watching its head bob and cock –
Such a comedian!
I sit aside the freeway by the river
To watch busy cars drive there –
So calm I am.
THE ELUSIVE LADY
The Moon became quietly jealous
One night when I surveyed Venus.
The usual glory reserved for her
Went to the dancer with Perseus.
At first, she passed for a star
Sparkling high above a church roof
But as she moved down further
Her ample speed gave proof.
Outgoing clouds didn’t shroud
The evening sky of cerulean blue.
Enchanted, I stayed around
To observe her quick rendezvous.
Fair Venus shined like a jewel
Like one worthy to be set in a ring.
Because she was so beautiful
She sent a jaded Moon waning.
The wide net of the Milky Way
Was cast and had failed to pull her in.
She outshined the Dog Star
And had evaded sly Orion
And as the Sun moved below
He teased her with stealing her glory.
She lusted for that power
And disappeared after him shortly.
Tho’ I know her general stream
And her light is brilliant and dense –
She’s been gone. I haven’t seen
The Elusive Lady since.
POVERTY is expensive
To those already poor -
Costing their time, wages
And spirit, yet they live
A hopeful porter
In their villages -
Subject to elitism.
I, for one, never
Received an invitation.
A SWIRL of amaretto
Revolves in my coffee -
Like a galaxy -
Shimmering and slow.
Dawn is utterly quiet;
Moon beams - thin and long -
Cleave to the flooring
Each protracted moment.
THE cemetery is alive
With freshly cut mums and poinsettias.
Gathering people make it even more abuzz.
A crisp wind blows
Over each receding blade of grass –
Slowly turning them the color of brass.
A handful of tombstones –
Sun-dappled underneath oak trees –
Are scratched by fallen amber leaves.
The crucifixion mound
Overlooking it inspires the Christmas spirit
Within the hearts of those who visit.
BEHOLD the marvelous wildflowers!
How they boldly carpet a sloping glen –
Our gift from Earth’s seasonal showers.
Hardly is the desert recognizable
Come March to an untrained eye when
Spring has announced herself in full
Except for occasional saguaros –
The perennial observers to this annual display –
Perched on the precarious ledge they chose.
Penstemon and globe mallow are in glee;
Even the palo verdes celebrate
By showering the ground with yellow confetti.
ON a breezy desert morning
While the city's people still slept –
With my worries inwardly kept –
I sat upon a curb, pondering.
Up the trunk of a stately bottle tree –
My gaze followed to heaven.
A starry sky gave no premonition –
The crickets serenaded me sweetly.
Set against royal blue, I spied
Vega's steady, baby blue shimmer.
Because it calmed my inner tremor –
I continued to fixate my eyes.
Suddenly, I watched a silvery streak
Strum the harp strings of Lyra.
Before my breath could catch in awe –
The stoked ember went out in a blink.
AS empty as the future
So is a soaked page
Whose ink has run off.
I hope to be the author;
A new and boundless decade
Awaits my pen's touch.
OH little mezuzah!
Like gold of Havilah –
A parchment scroll worthy
To keep words Moses wrote –
With words of eternity
Egypt's firstborn were smote.
Beckon angels, I pray;
Turn the demons away.
Reflect a little starlight –
How it sparkles of gold!
Comfort me in the night
From the cold unknown.
Remember its power;
Remember the Passover.
WINDOW ROCK
Years of rain and wear created a window rock –
Letting the sunshine come through –
Revealing a pristine sky of baby blue
In sharp contrast to the red, jagged basalt.
I stood underneath in a large room.
My body was bathed in a ghostly glow.
My head was crowned with a white halo
And a distinct unsettling feeling did loom.
Like a giant magnifying glass to heaven –
My murky soul was searched for virtues.
I questioned myself – What is truth?
I was challenged to be a better person.
I was answered that within every saint –
Big and small, that has ever been –
There coexists purity and sin.
Down the hillside I climbed, feeling different.
GENTLE Earth, I beg of you –
Whisper to us the first sign of spring.
Annul this wintry despair
And a season of life anew, bring.
From the depths of Baja
Carry the warmth in upon a draft.
Poke the sunshine through grumbly clouds
And send it down as a gilded shaft.
Clothe the desert with the raiment
Of fleeting sheets of white rain.
Implore the wildflowers that they
Bestow upon us a fantastic display.
Help the button-face of the brittlebush
Peep over the dead, crumpled brush.
Bring forth the canyon penstemon.
Make the Mexican lime cactus flush.
With one stroke of rain
Paint the delicate creosote yellow.
Order the Engelmann’s cactus to raise
Their trumpets of fuchsia and blow.
Tempt forth the birds to sing – hark!
I beg, usher in March.
A MILKY-EYED mourning dove
Sat upon a tombstone - tacit -
Inside the grounds of St. Francis
To admire a cache betroved.
A sentinel's duty - it bears -
Not broken by a morning beam -
Even the shuffle of the wind
Could not disturb the atmosphere.
The dove - it eyed me peacefully -
Let out a feathered sigh.
I felt it - walking on by -
That blessed serenity.
HIDING in an empty room
To have a minute with myself –
I sat on a plush chair
And sank about as low as I felt.
Heaving, I lied, saying
In my head – All is well.
Ticklish electricity then
Stirred the surrounding air.
Slowly, I felt the sensation
As of a fly entangled in my hair
Except two little tugs followed.
I turned – alas – nobody there!
PINK is the morning sun ablaze.
Gray is the balmy air.
Purple is the city's haze.
Brown is the wren's bleary stare.
White is the glistening dew.
Night – adieu!
GOOD morning, fair cardinal –
How are you?
How are your children?
Your plumage is nearly outdone
By the sun's golden hue.
The mattress is firm –
My blanket is coolly sheer.
What's that?
Come outside, be with us?
Sorry, my bed is too cozy a lair.
MIDNIGHT
Seizuring so as if escaping from fright
You awoke suddenly near about midnight
Then rolled over meeting my body halfway
By instinct, drew nearer and kissed me straight away.
Your cheek, always soft, nestled against mine.
Your muscular hand came to rest upon my thigh.
In my ear, your breath came like wind rushing.
By the touch of your tepid skin, I sensed flushing.
My eyes perused you in the moonlight
Convincing me for a moment that all was right.
You fell again to sleep peacefully it seemed
Perhaps to dream that time a pleasant dream.
SWEAT is the other garment
You wear in the desert
When the only water is in the cactus
And all but the flies are inert
But a cool layer of sweat
Is a hiker's proof of award
For taking a thin trail
And in curiosity, moving forward.
THE treetop glimmers outside my window
As light, dancing upon the leaves –
Shimmers off each leaf in soft yellow.
From afar, my attention is retrieved
By light, pure and perfectly aglow.
In the wind, swaying gently –
Each leaf is twirled as a ballerina –
Playing with my fragile jealousy.
I think I hear in the wind a viola –
Oh light, would you dance with me?
SPRING days like these
Were made for katie ruellia –
Who is royalty among flowers –
Robed delicately in purple.
There – she arrived for the festivities
As the trumpeters blow their sennet.
Her crown is the leaves –
The butterflies – her subjects.
I HEARD my name called in the wind –
Stirring up in my heart a thrill.
Neither a person at the trail bend
Nor stationed upon the hill
Did this phenomenon portend.
A second stronger wind waxed –
Rushing through the valley.
Hearing my name again, I was vexed.
By the rattling of bursage leaves –
The calling out was masked.
As the wind came, it hushed as quickly.
It waited for what I'd do next.
I listened – the valley was still.
Spirit of goodness –
I whispered – or of evil –
I bid, let me pass
If that be your will.
SWEET CRICKETS
Sweet crickets, the tune
You’re playing tempts me to sleep.
By your tune I will drift off
Better to a place dark and deep.
The low moon and toads
As well as I are your audience.
Why, even the saguaro blooms
Have opened with interest!
The night shall soon bend over
And kiss my eyelids closed.
From Earth’s port into the sky
Of oblivion, I shall make my abode.
But should I judge your tune
To be my favorite solace
Promise me you’ll return
One night to play for me again.
CHRISTMAS CINQUAINS
There hangs the old presence of Christmas cheer
But the cloak of wintry air keeps me here.
Let the others dance
While we share romance.
Stay close beside me, my love.
Hear the joyous carolers faintly sing –
How their brass bells carry far as they ring!
The wind will soon blow
In the overnight low.
Stay close beside me, my love.
All is well. How fierce the fire log crackles!
Heat teases our toes and warms our ankles.
The tree lights glitter.
The candles flicker.
Stay close beside me, my love.
In love and comfort, my needs are fulfilled
But the weather will do whatever it will.
By your warm embrace
You make my heart race.
Stay close beside me, my love.
VILLANELLE #1
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When I dreamt that big dreams would come true
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
Fate is made hard by the evil thoughts of men.
Tho' I strove for good, ill luck accrued.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When life was unscripted, the future was golden.
Dreams burned as bright as the morning sun's hue
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
Power is the motive behind the heart's assassin.
Thus, life hurts like a sword turned in the wound.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
When I sought in vain the faith of a paladin
Who'd champion my cause, to be approved
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
God curses both the righteous and the wicked
But punishment without fault seems cruel.
In my youth, I remember an innocent time
But all those dreams have since been stolen.
VILLANELLE #2
Through this character is learnt:
By loneliness and challenge
In the silence of the desert.
Only in solitude do trials impart
Permanent lessons, not in a village.
Through this character is learnt:
Necessity is taught by thirst.
Life is worthy at the canyon ridge
In the silence of the desert.
It's learnt by listening to a calm heart
Not by the horror of war's carnage.
Through this character is learnt:
Knowing Adam prevailed when cursed.
Humility became his wage
In the silence of the desert.
Your strengths matter here first.
Worldly views become abridged.
Through this, character is learnt
In the silence of the desert.