So vast, this desert seems,                 

    so scant these supplies

            a little water,

                a few dried fruits–

too long a skirt,

            already-worn sandals—

                        scarcely the needed garb

                            for a journey so unexpected—


Sundarts and windstorms—

            How will they feel?

                        This sudden desolation,

                                    this sweeping despair,

                                                how sharply will they sting


and will there be a remedy

            and will it come in time

                        to rescue so naïve,

                                    so nearly spent

                                                a life?


Will you still hear it,

            that whisper,

                        that voice,

                                    the one that always says,


One step         

    take one step,

            and this:


Trust yourself—

    every heart vibrates,

        and you know the rest:

             that iron string is strong—