I must go to the desert, to the clean high country.
I will call on the winds to sweep away
the cobwebs the city has spun in my soul.
I will call on the sand to scour the scale
from my mind until my thoughts run true.
I must go among the mesas and rimrock,
and walk through the sage and rabbit brush,
breathing their pollen to clean my lungs.
I must go where nothing grows with ease,
I must go to my brothers, coyote and deer,
go where the rattlesnake has her dominion,
I must go to the desert, the clean high country.
Southwest Desert Landscape -- Tom Brown