A Rose
by Carl Josehart

Arid, aching sand
burns at the soles of my feet
I wander
parched
lost
the hot wind obscuring footprints
of where I’ve been

Suddenly an oasis
rises out of the barren horizon
water
caresses the land
coaxing life
out of the wasted sand

Amid desolation and waste
seeds planted in hope
nourished with love
tap the long buried life giving spring
promising one day
on the desert
there will bloom a rose