Half the Supply

Half the Supply

(“Here’s what believers who are in low positions in life should be proud of. They should be proud that God has given them a high position in the kingdom.” James 1:9)

The days are dry without end, the summer light
grills the ground, the constant beige baked into every
rock and stone. And hours since the light is gone
the rugged desert floor radiates the same heat
toward the stars. Stingy with its release, the air only
becomes breathable
a pair of hours before dawn, before
the sharp light and arid sky provide
only half the supply life needs for thickets
and underbrush other ecozones display
with less effort than a butterfly gliding
bloom to bloom.

We walk soon after dawn, before noon and the
straight-line blaze from the sun and its rays overheat
every possible path. Flat as a billiard’s slate, no shade
breaks the invisible beams; no respite for earth and its
captive passenger to take a breath, wipe the sweat,
and hope new rain will fall swallowed by washes
and sent to start the seeds awaiting the second half
of verdant genesis.

And while the wait, and during the walk, some
30 feet distant on the dusty floor, a color far outside
the decorator’s wheel; a bright, a sheen, a damp magenta
and intense yellow;
the solo desert flower caught the eye. The parched earth
below a gasping sky had offered more than the forests
of coastal mountain ranges.

In its poverty the desert offered an isolated endowment;
the smallest of flowers from the poorest supply
greeted the eye with more reflection
than a thousand on a rainforest floor.