Desert Red

***This is a continuation from the poem River Styx.***
I climb
over burnt amber sands
piled high
reminescent
of snow hills
I played on as a child.
Glaring sun
no respite
I stumble along
unsure
where I am going
what I will find at the end.
Moving one foot before the other
cracked lips
I can feel the skin on my face
blistered
charred
no agony
no pain
Is this trial by fire?
Will the sins staining my soul
finally be erased?
An oasis I seek
mirage
what I find
until finally I fall
unable to move further on.
finds me
face down
covered partly by sand.
With surprising strength
he picks me up
placing me on his wagon.
‘Rest little one.
I am the next to carry you further.’
Sept. 13/18
Photo by Mason Field on Unsplash