Arabian Nights

Three years ago I was writing poetry in the Kuwait desert …

Arabian Nights

A half moon joins scattered stars
In a gray sky brightened by dancing lights
Of growling Blackhawks
While whining generators chase shadows
Into the corners of concrete bunkers and barriers
Surrounding boxes, “little boxes,
Little boxes made of ticky-tacky”
And the dust and sand and gravel
Stepped in, driven over, and trash strewn
Give little evidence of those shifting sands
And silent, black skies, pocked with stars and
The shimmering whiteness of the Milky Way
That once were the Arabian desert
Inviting holy men and wanderers
Into contemplation of the great mystery
And friendship with the One who speaks
To troubled hearts
And yearning souls