September's

The wind carries the dust up from the fields of yucca and sage beyond the entrada sandstone The rain cleanses, renews Terrified to look too far east and lose sight of something great Or to look too far west and glance over the warnings The seasons move upon the land Colors change, time marches All of the creatures breathe It would seem it is the wilderness who is the Master of Balance Nothing lost that isn't gained Short days, or long waits High desert, or down low There is a truth My heart knows Passion is stronger than doubt