Fields of yellow sun-eyes,
purple mat and owl’s clover
await your arrival.

Their silent music,
a symphony of seeds
scattered by the breath of wind.

I’ve traveled the wildflower way.
Trusted wind-blown journeys
and the soil of new lands.

Felt my roots fed 
by shimmering waters
that paint these desert blooms.

But for now, I’ll stay awhile
and be the one whose breath
is stolen by beauty like this.