A Song of Sifting Sands

Wish I Were Here

There is a place that I always knew existed, hidden behind a secret door in my soul. It seemed that I had searched for eternity. I peered into the darkness, hands out in front of me, searching for a crack in the wall, a keyhole, a sliver of light. Some sign of a way in.

I am unable to recall when I first learned of Namibia. Images must have paraded before my eyes – a National Geographic documentary, surely. What I do recollect: the absolute stillness of recognition. A paused heartbeat. Breath caught. Then, a nod.

It takes a vast soul to see the beauty in desolation. The enchantment of wastelands. Infinity in the emptiness.


August 2015. So there I was. The doorway was a mirror. My presence was the key. I stepped through. When I turned around, the door was not only gone. It had never been there at…

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