Cacti in the Sand
Not all deserts are made of sand and dust and
Some are desolate oases
In the midst of busyness
Sighted when one stumbles
And notices the barrenness
That is caused by doing and not
Stopping to soak in the present.
This is a call
To pitch a tent in solitude
And attend to the thirst
Deep in the center of one’s soul
Where the gifts of each moment,
Like cacti in the sand,
Are waiting to bloom.
March reflection provided by SDI member and poet Roberta Meyer of Holland, Indiana, USA.