Stumpy pyramid juniper trees,
With mossy bark, their twisted limbs,
Offer berries, dusty blue in dense bracts,
Casting shadows long in wide tracts.
Among and between them zig and zag;
Hop the rocks broken, bubbled, black:
Vestiges of blasts and flows volcanic.
Sun hangs low, shoots light in needles
Through clear cold bright blue high desert sky
To gild the tufts of grass - feathered, pale and dry.
The gaze averts beyond the trees
To distant heights adorned in snow,
And sets the consciousness aglow.
The soul reflects what it attends:
Into one brings near and far,
What were, will be, and are.