The Patchwork Desert
Where the sky mimics the ground below,
We travel so fast but it looks so slow.
Like a carbon copy of blue on white,
Of the places we used to fight.
Undulating. The rise and fall.
Mighty high but I feel so small.
War torn cities no hint of their history,
All shrouded in a cloud of mystery.
A beauty they have all of their own,
As I travel on alone.
Basra and Baghdad truly unexpected sight,
The views you see during day and night.
Desert sands are shifting, giant dunes on a beach.
Thousands of miles, I wonder how far they reach.
Stretching, climbing mountains take you further afield.
Landscapes and lifelines, there’s so much to yield.
Rivulets of water expand into lakes,
I wonder if there are earthquakes.
But where water brings, greenery and hope,
To hardworking, normal and honest folk.
Like alpine views bathed the mountains in light
One thing I can’t get past, try as I might.
The thing that I don’t understand
Is which is snow and which is sand?
And broken clouds go sailing by,
As we travel through the sky.
The sunlight creeping through is such a sight to behold.
Majestic mountains, telling the stories of old.
One of Many photographs taken by the river of decaying floats and scenery.
