Desert Sand

The intoxicating desert sand

Beckons out to me, the golden sand,

As though thousands of tiny

Flecks of gold strewn across

The seamless mountains,

The mellow evening casting

A soothing pink reflection

On the desert sand. The reflection,

It calls out my name, as a mere whisper,

Which might not reach to me,

The first instance, yet,

The faintest echo does reach.

An illumination, as surreal and ethereal

As it might be, in that distant corner

Of the mighty desert, does allure me,

It entices me towards itself.

The oasis lit up with the

Full moon today, as though,

A river of uncontaminated, angelic silver,

Should be flowing through

The desert golds, this oasis speaks my name,

It utters a faintest sough

Of an address meant for me.

I do not know,

If it is the desert coaxing me,

Captivating me, into the enchanting self

That it is, or it is you,

My muse, the epitome of love,

Of a fascination which does exist,

Somewhere far away in the distant divine lands,

Almost unearthly,

Calling out to me. I shall today,

Give in to this enticing adventure,

And if I may, I shall find you,

In these golden desert sands.