“Desert Calling”

in the desert stands a woman
a priestess
her bare feet rest in still-warm sand
her arms stretch above her head
her fingers reach to the dome of nightfall

in that blackness stars shine and glimmer
the moon a bare crescent
she speaks words of intent
a prayer, an incantation
a spell born of hunger
born of desperation
born of desire

in her heart there is devotion
in her soul there is openness
there is passion

her voice becomes a beacon
her words sing out across the sands
reaching through time
across unimaginable distances
calling her tribe to her


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