Where Is It?...Where Is It?

The desert is supposed to be beautiful.
But when I look out my window,
what do I see?
Dust,
and dusty adobe,
and dusty, wilting grass.
The sky is empty and sizzling.
Hundreds of thousands of people in this city, and do any of them care?
Do I care?

Why is it so ugly? Why?
Where is it?
Where's the beauty?
Why can't I see it?

Even if I started walking out of the city and into the desert,
nothing would change.
Same dust.
Same emptiness.
Same flatness, mindlessness.
Walk and walk and walk.
Where is it?
Where is the home I knew?
Where are the enchanted places?

Where is the gorgeous red sand,
the heart-bursting sunsets,
the intricate rock towers,
the broad, sweeping mesas,
and the breathless gorges
that made me want to sing?

Where are the lonely two-lane roads
with the incredible panoramas,
the dry wind that rustles in your hair the way only desert wind can,
the sweet-smelling rain and the lightning
like trees with so many intricate branches.
Where is that stunning desert moon?

Where is the freedom you are supposed to feel?
The yearning for spontaneity?
The yearning for love?

This apathy.
This dehydration.
This mindless, raging sun.
You don't tan, you burn alive.

What did I ever see in this place?