deserted haven

it has been many long weeks since i first stepped foot in this arid desert. my empty water container lies a good three day's journey behind me, without doubt forever lost in the swirling sand. my hair clings matted to my head and my raw skin bears only the salty remains of my last few drops of sweat.

i glance down at what used to be my shirt, now torn in two and tied to these chapped and bleeding feet. i know i can't glance down for too long. if i loose my balance and fall with one of these shuffling, stinted steps i will never rise. my throat is parched and every painful breath echoes its rasping call inside my head, only overshadowed by the whistling winds over the dunes.

no longer do i even attempt to keep my mouth closed from the flying sand. lips protrude permanently, dry and cracked, no longer able to keep the stifling gusts from tearing apart my fragile mouth. out of this brittle skin all i can do is stare forward with lifeless, empty eyes.

dizzied, i stumble. i fall.  through the ground i plunge.  

gasping for air, with a mighty thrust i am propelled out of these deep, cooling waters and onto a mossy embankment. a peculiarly massive tree, with great sweeping boughs and strongly chiseled bark provides an expansive canopy as i lay panting under its stately protection. strangely invigorated by this placid pool, i nestle within the stout roots of my elderly guardian.

as my breath slows to a more reasonable pace, i catch an intoxicating fragrance in the air, as though spring is out romancing a garden of lilacs. the thick green grass interspersed with mossy embankments and stately stones clothes the forest floor in artistic simplicity. a calming rustle meets my ears as the gentle breeze flows through the jostling leaves above my head.

Here and there, gatherings of vividly-painted flowers poke their heads out from the moss, while laughing larks chase each other through the architecture of the overhanging branches. the pool is larger than i first thought, i muse as i bring a cupped palm-full of liquid refreshment to my mouth. the quiet chuckle of a tumbling water-fall not far off lulls me to sleep as i sink contentedly into my thickly-pillowed nook.