"Desert Child" by Angela Wise
I was a girl
born of harsh sands, spiny yucca
once of porcelain, then of gold
sunshine blazes which kissed my skin.
My body learned from the cougar,
smooth and supple on the surface but
wrought with hardened muscle, iron
tested against the red mountain faces.
My anger learned from the rattlers
patience is wound in loops, forming
strong skin against trivial insults but
providing vicious revenge on attack.
My spirit learned from nature
to offer up its fruits to the weary,
cooling nerves like the setting sun’s
evening hours calm the crying coyote.
I, a soul of fire,
bathed in the treasured rare river,
sang joyfully with wolves to the stars
And danced amongst troubling sandstorms
Until I lay down amongst the mesas,
shed my scorpion barb, blossomed
like the prickly pear’s bright flower
then let my soul follow the hawk
to depart the earth for the skies.
I was a girl
born of harsh sands, spiny yucca
once of porcelain, then of gold
sunshine blazes which kissed my skin.
My body learned from the cougar,
smooth and supple on the surface but
wrought with hardened muscle, iron
tested against the red mountain faces.
My anger learned from the rattlers
patience is wound in loops, forming
strong skin against trivial insults but
providing vicious revenge on attack.
My spirit learned from nature
to offer up its fruits to the weary,
cooling nerves like the setting sun’s
evening hours calm the crying coyote.
I, a soul of fire,
bathed in the treasured rare river,
sang joyfully with wolves to the stars
And danced amongst troubling sandstorms
Until I lay down amongst the mesas,
shed my scorpion barb, blossomed
like the prickly pear’s bright flower
then let my soul follow the hawk
to depart the earth for the skies.