the landscape is barren, the sky is solid white
the colors of my memory are dulled by leaden light
and the roadrunner runs across the barren ground
beneath the desert trees are jagged rocks
no sound of the water in the stillness does he touch
the stones yield no path for the root
migratory birds on flight to southern lands
escaping thru mirages are swallowed by the sand
to the north lies country unexplored and deep
there sleeps the Mountain King in the garden that he keeps
my mind it wanders north to the country unexplored
and I cannot remember if I’ve ever dreamed before
upon the river landing where once lived the Ferryman
deserted shade of mountain at the edge of wasted land
I cross the river wide, I leave my boat upon the shore
I wander in the garden for two lifetimes or more
and the roadrunner runs across the barren ground
beneath the desert trees are jagged rocks
no sound of the water in the stillness does he touch
the stones yield no path for the root