in the most barren land

not in the luxuriant forest
not in the perfect garden
not in the emerald green
not in the abundance that you do not understand
but in the wilderness
in the most barren land
where it rains once in a whole lifetime
and if it rains it rains a little to none
yet right there
by this forgotten periphery of the world
the most beautiful flowering so brilliant and humane
so bright that if you wear the suit of patience
and the humble veil of listening
 you will see
and then repose in peace
between the sky and dust in the wind
of this desert with no name

Marco Bo