The desert vapors

A tribute to the Burningman project.

The music as thick as pasta
sticking and clinging
to my eardrums
piercing the liquidness
of my body and reaching for the heart

Pulsating and shouting
like a madman on a cliff
Hear me, be me, see me.

The fatness disappears
The dust settles
on beautiful faces
Darkness moves aside
giving way to
the river of emotions
that began when
we first started crawling
and is now beached
at the temple
doomed to burn
and be reborn.

Ecstasy abounds
The sights and sounds
The awakening of
souls through
thunderous grounds
deep in the night
finding others of likeness
and everyone else around

Shakes us to the
inner self, this
layer of confusion
juxtaposed on a simple
arrow of kindness
being offered as oranges
set forth
to raise us
and set us on the
way to the warmth
of the morning rays
hitting the whitewashed
faces, gleaming
with sweet perspiration
bursting forth
fragrance like
jasmine flowers on a full moon.

Bees with bellies full
of nectar heading
home, seven days
seven nights
it pouring dew
and gusts of satisfaction
Legions of colorful
and happy
soldiers of gratitude
pouring forth to paint this
emotionally scarred
and scary landscape
anew

I grok this, I rejoice.
I understand. I’m here
I’m one of the soldiers
and fight, yeah
fight I will.

-by Lex Lapax �(09/01/2005)