Quench

Dry deserts and spells, yet cottonmouth dreams
Elicit hope for the stranded
What treasures and splendors await?
The mirage offers fantasy and hallucination
Of all the possibilities that lay ahead.
The end is in sight and long have I pondered how I might enjoy
The shade of your trees, or taste of your fruit.
I would feel every blade of tenderness caress me as I walk toward relief.
I would trace patterns in the shifting sands and tiptoe around this sweet oasis.
I would breathe in the sweet scents of comfort and let auburn leaves swirl about me.
And above all fall to my knees and worship that which offers relief,
An offering worthy of such respite.
Yet my heart pounds as I get closer, pulsing in time with my need.
Footsteps build in rapid cadence as I fly toward what I have sought.
There is no time, or thought; thirst.
I am suspended in air a moment of pure anticipation.
Before crashing into welcoming wet.  
I am surrounded
Drinking deep
Immersed
Thrashing to the surface
Gasping for air
Being dragged down by the depths of desire.
I flail and tumble being held and holding on.
Until finally I am thrown up onto the shore
Shivers lapping up the base of my spine.
Feeling ragged wind blow across my cheek
More dead than alive yet renewed
I look about and see blurred lines become sharp
The trees, and sands, and auburn leaves are now in sharp relief.
Grand schemes forgotten now rise again
As I recall everything my Oasis provides
I smile and breathe it in, then meander toward the water, caressing every inch of beauty beneath me.
Thirst quenched I look around and see all I have truly missed