The heat of the desert evaporates at night,
but the clear, dry air carries the star light.
Riding on it, on this particular winter's eve,
something from another place we don't usually perceive
paid us a visit, came to kick it in the Kalahari.
But it forgot to send us all invites for the party.
Sorry stranger all alone with nothing but sand
less of a revelation than I think it had planned.
Maybe it's for the best, humans have a silly tradition
of reading too much into these desert apparitions.
My position is that while I wish to meet another mind
I'm OK waiting for a wiser one that knows how to find
it's way to where I am, maybe pop up in my room
instead of hoping I will search for it out there in the dunes.