Krasis

The desert rain forms with mud and sun to sculpt a bowl, a crater for mixing, combining, and transformation. The dry wind hides the imprints of the past and writes in her ancient language upon the surface of the sands. When she is finished with her poem, and there is a moment of stillness and balance, and the moon is lost from the sky, one might light a flame at dusk and read the scripture in the sand to call something out of the darkness.