Page 20 - Oasis in the Sky

Monsoon Dragons

Slowly I rock, the creak of my chair filling
the empty silence of a late summer afternoon.
I sit on the porch of my home in a
canyon nestled between granite cliffs.

“Sky Islands” the Apache and Chiricahua
call these oases of mountains
rising out of the desert plain.

In this palpable stillness I wait for
the monsoon dragons to roar thunder and
spit lightning, the resulting deluge

of annual rain quenching the parched
thirst of these tortured mountains
and desiccated desert valleys.

As the rain descends, gullies flash flood
and the creek below rampages as it
overflows its banks in a muddy torrent.

Long is their frenzied onslaught
as if in one surreal evening they can
scour these sky islands clean.

Finally the monsoon dragons quiet,
thunder and lightning far distant
proof that the dragons have

moved on, yet still bathe the land
with life sustaining rain.
I inhale the sweetly cleansed air

as my chair quietly continues its creaking,
looking forward to tomorrow evening
and the monsoon dragons’ promised return.

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Oasis in the Sky
Oasis in the Sky