Finally, after many years,
There is no going back.
I am here—
Lost in open spaces.
The dunes seem endless,
Wave upon wave upon wave of sand.
The only recourse left is to follow
Soaring bird, high above—
Wherever it may lead
In distant clouds unknowing.
I would not be here but that I thirst.
Bless each step I take, O Lord,
Master of the Universe and the Opening Light—
All that had to be created
To create a single rose.
O Reader, teach me how to walk.