Rainless, summer-desert storms;
Tumults of heat, sand, distance,
Without cacophony of clashing sound,
Only surge and sigh of omnipresent winds.
Rising from Death Valley’s core,
Sand tendrils licking the desert sky;
Swirling columns, articulated stone,
Cast and mortared by dervish breath;
Momentary monuments cast by nature.
Against a backdrop of purpled majesties,
Interactive sculptures lifted in supplication,
Risen above praying shrubs in dry arroyos,
Bowed in obeisance, bent but not subdued.