Our Lady Of Mirage

She walks across the desert and the shuttle in her hand Weaves out behind her webs of light that clothe the shifting sand; Where her swift footstep passes strange, shadowy cities rise, And chartless seas roll shoreward where never sea-shore lies; And where no house was builded nor ever home shall be Stretch green and peaceful homelands with tender witchery: Like flowers that bend to greet her soft colors glow and gleam Of gardens never tended beside an unknown stream; And there like silver shadows move women gentle-eyed, And children run before them and lovers walk beside; And all that life has banished and all that love has missed Comes in that mystic vision to keep a holy tryst. The restless winds are music, the shifting sands reveal The truth beyond the substance, the dream forever real-- Across life’s poorest barrens, o’er desert waste and slope, She weaves her bright illusions, the blest mirage of hope.