The night-time desert is a silent prayer
Only an animal rustle nearby;
Their brightness a billion miles from here,
Those distant stars spark voiceless in the sky.
I see the outline of a Joshua Tree
And find my hands are clasped each to each
Lost for all those words I want to say
But understand I need to thank and not beseech.
For sometimes when my breath is short
And my old lungs take on an antique wheeze
The machinery has slowed, not what I sought,
I miss those long gone times of sap and ease.
And then the sunrise has its untidy say
Making me newly grateful for this day.James Nash © 2025
