From memory, the dry untamed ground drew every drop of warmth and sweat from me. I dragged myself another mile, never really knowing where the will to continue was born. A thing of nature or perhaps desire to tell someone I had finally showed some character, beyond the noisy man wanting more of this and a lot less of that.

Habitats become you, razor sharp, so easy to catch flame when everything has forgotten water. Rash, frequent thoughts of running and long walks taking time to let my dogs run freely. Looking up to the mountains, partially blocking the ravaging sun. I touched my cheek, it felt more like lizard or pterodactyl, I could not take my hand away.

When did the rain forget our names? Forsaking us until short days of winter called it out to play. Rocks and sand, no happy ministry’s finding soft words and welcome ears for the cries of men wandering round in circles. Our Brothers believing themselves free of duty stiff armed our children as they came to ask for bread and wine-drops.

We wanted more than the greatest ever given. Taking off the shield against the dark welcoming the shadow to breast we thought to own the sun and chase the mornings into cavern. We looked upon the face of sovereignty, knowing ourselves richly blessed by the love and power of everlasting. But sweeter songs of pride lured us into poverty.

We had watched the world, wanting so much to be welcomed, honored, finding praise in hearing our own names chanted. We walked away from safety, throwing fire and caution straight into eastern sky. Clenched teeth at the winters bark and labors of a world never meant to see the light beyond circumference. A shield too far.