Pale dawn hues on a crisp winter morning,
Dappled shade ‘neath trees on hot summer days,
Cactus roses drenched in dew, yet urging
Bold anthem of praise for scorched, bone-dry ways.
Toward crescent Moon like a starlit stairway,
Send snow-filled squalls and gelid winds howling,
Which piñon and sagebrush greet as child’s play.
Heartfelt laments of White-winged Doves mourning
Bygone days of their arid lands heyday;
Yet human connections, towns and farming,
Keep demise at arm’s length far and away.
Ethereal spirits enticed to play
By flawless rhythms of sun and breeze lingering,
Like whispers of comfort on hope’s causeway.
Cloud burst on rangeland with dark skies churning,
Hushed wings, flight calls from age-old crane flyway,
Shared smiles with strangers that take heart soaring
Like laughter and shouts of children at play.
Primal heartstrings...allows grace to allay
Pained souls and nurture hearts…accepting,
That tribulations need not cause dismay.
Said moments of heart, mind and soul merging
Endure as bridge to famed celestial gateway
And light beacons of hope mid stardust bearing
Divine glimmers—God’s grace—as life’s mainstay.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
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