You Find Me In The Desert by Virginia Hughes

You Find Me in the Desert

I miss you before I leave.

Your guiding words, 

are meant for others.            

Your time, your smile, 

Dis . . .  appear . . . ing . . .

Your way to SHOW ME this.

Your gentle touch,

I do not feel.

Not a new lamb 

seeking the outer edges.


walking out a little farther, 

day by day, by day.

The narrow road 

widening to hold

twisting truth:

You do not love 

me anymore.

No talk today.

All day? All day.

Days turning on each other.

Week one,  

then four. 

What is forever 

but a day passing time, 

chaining one, onto another.

A name forgetting its name,

and when forgotten,


No pressure to do for you, 

lying in green pastures,

following by still waters, 

feasting at full tables.

I could never please you anyway.  

I turn away, 

from comforting. 

No rod and staff I know. 

Food here is never tasty 

As in your fields all grow.

Where is the water

in the desert; I don’t see.

Thorns scratch, legs bleed.

Snake slithers, rattle warns.

Living water, such a thirst.

All desert - no water, and a curse,

dust storms blow,

stealing breath.

Running and falling into a pit of stone.

Pleas catching in a drying throat.

Light dims. Shadows lengthen.

Darkness falls.




Lonely tears.

No one hears.

Is that a calling voice?

Ever stronger.

Answer with a choking cough.

Here you are.

Finding me in darkness.

Covering me with kindness, 

My cup runneth over.

Drink, yes drink your fill.

Anoint my head with oil.

Bandages tighten.

Medicine sting.

Lift and carry, everlasting arms won’t drop me.

I lean.

I have missed you so much.

I tried to forget you when my heart broke,

scattering itself against desert rocks and crags.

Never you who forgets or departs.

Only I.

Not knowing how much I miss you

until I see you again. 

And now remembering,

what was doubted. 

It is the end of the day, 97.

We are all here, 98.

Because you have loved, 99.

You have 100,

I have counted.