Read The Burial

Whispers weave

through winds unseen.

A nobleman's staff,

guiding desert paths

through barren dreams.

Wrapped in cloth,

listening close~

a sound no throat

could ever groan.

From sacred flame,

embers stay unconsumed;

from earth's stone ~

All Commanding;

testaments as old

as morning dew.

There, an ancient light

casting shadows within.

In the presence

of a secret Grace~ only

a man's genuine soul

may follow,

receiving an

all consuming embrace.

Years, like rivers run,

beneath the beating desert sun.

A guide unseen, yet,

forever near ~

known in silent depths; a

solitude that brings no fear.

"Face to face, as a man

speaketh unto his friend',

through sands and stone ~

desert mountains to ascend.

Where twilight fades,

man knows no rest; a

dimming dawn of hope,

night invades

an endless quest.

His people's dream,

a constant test ~

forty years of tracing steps.

Yet, an unwavering heart

in loyalty bound, the only

friend of the Divine ~

an eternal life found.

Listened to the whispers,

and guided dessert paths,

up mountains tops

with visions

of the promise land.

To see~ and yet,

never to step upon;

a vision given,

but never to guide on.

A summit to gaze

the path,

leading his people home ~

a call, The Promise~

and the first signs of dawn.

Laid to rest, eternal,

in scripture, written one.

Moses, the deliverer,

entombed by

the hands of God.

Brought commandments

in stone, through deserts

stormed and with him,

his Mighty Staff laid too ~

plagues, snakes,

and parting seas,

.... its miracles still shown.