The desert, to a stranger's glance, 
Appears a waste where west winds dance, 
Where only dust filled rivers roam
In unrewarded search for home. 

Yet hope abounds this ancient land
Of ageless forms and pastel sands
That shift in nature's subtle play
'Til star domed night turns white sky day. 

Horizon hills, from Earth set free, 
Reflect on imitation seas, 
As floating, mirrored mountain tops, 
Greet fallen Forest turned to rock. 

Watered by a pre-dawn dew
Fragile flowers bloom anew;
Sunshine with God's help is formed
Insuring each will be reborn.