Dried Figs

Deep in the desert
she laid her garments out to dry
upon the fronds of palms,
and with them she placed her heart
among the figs,
and when she gathered her belongings
she left it there 
upon the sands of time,
for it was a withered  
and bitter fruit. 

Day and night she travelled
over ever-shifting dunes
that painted fractal puzzles
in the sea of confusion,
and with every oasis
she spied upon the horizon,
and every mirage she thought would
quench her thirst
only to dissolve into the dust,
she left another part of her behind 
like breadcrumbs for the crows
until she felt the weight
of lack of self
heavy on her soul. 

The sun bore down upon her
unrepentant
though still she prayed for rain,
and mined for diamonds
in the dunes 
while they consumed her,
one grain at a time.

But as she blinked back tears
that only served to anger Ra,
a cool breeze blew in from the south,
bathed her weary soul,
soothed her parched lips,
and rebuilt her piece by piece
 until at last she recognized 
the woman that once was,
in the mirror he held  
in his eyes.



january 2006
ŠJanet Reid





Awarded by Poetic Constellations





Awarded by Poetic Constellations (Rick) ~ Sept 5, 2009