Out of the desolate sands
arose a beauty
a thing cast out of Time.
Its beauty shines soft and clear
as if it were waiting ...

It stands tall and proud
against the moonlit sky.
Its wings unfurl as if to catch the wind
that blows across
the desolate sands of Time and place.

It looks around and wonders.
What has happened in the years
since it was asleep?
Its eyes soft and gentle shine
their softness luminates though the night.

Waiting for the dawn to come
standing, waiting, watching
the sun comes up
It stands against the sands of Time
desolate, blowing, swirling.

Suddenly its head thrown back..
a trumpet call issues from its throat.
It wonders what happened
to the lush greenness of life that was
before it went into sleep.

Wait!! Was that an answer?
Or just the wind..
swirling and moaning
amongst the
desolate, whirling sands.

No...looking closely
it can see ... nothing alive
against the sunlit sea of sands,
desolate winds blowing
stirring moaning.

It is the last one of its kind
now forever alone,
against that desolate sunlit sky.
It stands there wondering...
finding ...it is enough.






Poem^© and Picture^© made by Jan Tallevast. Not to be copied without permission.
No permission for commercial useage will be granted.
Copyrighted 1997