Pilgrimage to desert skies

Hot dry air floats in a clear heat haze,
Fires gone from years ago
Growth
Rebirth
Monuments to the sky.
Sun bakes earth
Like scorched bread in a kiln
Dry
Brittle
Dust caked crumbles.
Blue skies run
Like rivers of cloudy tears
Cataracts blind
But the senses still see.
The old crone climbs
Gathering in her sack
Bits of this and that
Walking the sky
As seen from below.
Outlined small like a fly on a wall of azure
Moving slowly
Step by step climbing out of view.
Her eyes no longer open
She moves with ease
She’s been this way before,
Gathering more bits of rock and stone,
whispering words to her family
Through centuries.
Hawk spins slowly in the sky
Circles back and touches down
In the path of her form
She senses his presence and chuckles aloud
Ah, my friend, you’ve come with a gift
And he spreads his great wings and takes flight,
Leaving behind a single feather,
She adds it to her dusty bag
Patting it gently
Keeping it safe.
She has all she needs now,
Her trip complete
On her sky walk,
She sits for a few moments and gazes out before her.
She no longer sees the vision,
But her memories serve her
This window on the world,
She takes a deep breath
Turns around to
To descend.