Desert Flower in Bloom

NOTES FROM THE ROAD
Near the Mojave Desert, 2017

When I bend myself backward, out of posture from the daily walk through life, I feel my spine open up like a book, pages cracking open so that air and light gush into the darkest crevices, excavating all staleness lingering inside. I breathe freely; embrace the ache from pushing myself out of a comfortable form, pages turning wildly in the wind like hair whipping blindness across my eyes down a desert highway with windows rolled down as a defiance against the comfort of conditioned air. I howl at the prickly pastel landscape blurring in my peripheral. I don’t know where I’ll sleep when darkness falls, but for now, I consume nothing but light.