Desert Crossings
It has been a long, long journey
Beset by thieves and inclement weather.
Survival was a very near thing,
At times It hung by a thread.
A time of many anthems
And a certain degree of nobility,
A nobility that awoke
To an uncertain dawn,
Or a dark dawn for a generation
Dying in the street.
The times beckoned with promises,
Quixote quests searching for windmills
And phantom dragons
Threatening fair maidens.
Fables that hid an uneasy dawning
That things were not as they seemed,
A growing shadow
That threatened to drown
All the pastels and paisleys
And dreams of fantasy
In a merciless sea.
Antidotes were oh, so easy,
A pill, a potion, a bubble,
Offering guideposts
To mark the way forward
And back if necessary.
The crossing from there to here
Was marked with small oases
And stars that had no fixed place
In the universe.
It was gobi-sahara-kalahari dry,
Drier than dust and ashes,
Drier than the taste
Of loneliness.
My thirst was great.
No compass pointed north.
Take me back, take me home.
Plant me in that place
And leave me there,
Maybe to put down roots
Or to wither.
It doesn’t matter.
The destination is now in sight.
How do I spend this time?
How do I make use
Of these few remaining steps?
I’m a new-found rebel
Adrift in his mid-seventies.
Really?
All things are possible.
All things that were possible
Are possible again,
With the right “incentive”.
Really?
A long delayed mid-life crisis
Has settled on my shoulders
And quickened my steps.
Really?
Not a burden really,
But an easing of the weight in my pack.
Take the best and leave the rest.
Palimpsest 
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