I make my home right here, in the shadow of the wall. Mother of the desert, cover me with cactus fruit. Shaggy dog, wind-chimes, turquoise paint on wood. I find the secret place where waters gather. Coyotes, crickets, white flowers that bloom in the moonlight.
Call me and I will come to you.
She chose me and left a sacred scar on my soul. I am her peaceful warrior. The sons and daughters of the desert are my own.
Remember the forgotten people.
Outcast, misfit, don’t cry over spilled fortune. Don’t linger long at the gates of the city, watching the people who live their little lives between the walls. Don’t be jealous of their colorful costumes and precious security. Leave them to their small minds. Do not envy delusion.
Be a creature of the desert forest. Wild and alive. Savor all that is given to you.
You among all the others were chosen for this strange purpose. We are the people of the underbelly. Cry your wanderer’s tears. Smile your outlaw grin.
Memorize the mountains. Find gleaming garnets scattered in the dust. The treasures are wild and numberless.
Mother of the desert, pull the cactus needles from my skin. Kiss the tiny wounds, uncountable.
Cold air, pounding heart. Run through the hills by starlight.
Cut the fences.