There was a garden a small plot
allotted to a child an inheritance
squandered we intended no harm
who could see in that whirlwind life
flung into our eyes like sand?
In the sandstorm the camel stopped
then stepped forward
her delicate long fringe of eyelash closed
the rider leaning downward over her
lurching halt-and-go
coming to a concave mountain
reddish dark in its own shadow
below as if under a frozen wave
beast and rider head toward blood sky
into sudden desert night
They will reach an oasis rest and continue
in time the rider will see in the far haze
walls of an unknown city
Let them inherit this
the animal will carry them
there will be respite there will be water
they will find their way by the rhythm of the cosmos
others will leave markings in the distance
the city will prepare for them