Where the trail ends

Where the trail ends, the sky takes over

Where the land drops from under my feet

I have a renewed faith in flying.

I stretch my arms as far as I can

Then I turn slowly, around and around

Deep canyons, round hills, rivers with dry beds

All move with me, faster and faster

Until they blend into one blurry swirl of colors

At the end of the trail my hidden place

No signs to lead the way there

Only the desert wind that softly moans

Repeating ancient stories of glory and gore

Were t desert nomads on their lonely way

Fugitives from battles doomed before they launched

Marching armies that filled the air with the clatter of arms

Shiny swords, sparkling amour, flags and clouds of dust

Hermits looking for salvation, hunkering in remote caves

Writers who left scrolls, that lost their lines in the sand

In the blurry swirl of colors I see their quivering images

In the echoes that roll down the sheer rock walls

I can hear their voices faint and haunting

The desert always takes over, always outlasts

In time covers all the foot prints of the past