The Oasis Is

I sit, listening to the wind, imagining I am the wind and nothing else.  This, perhaps, is the key to surviving the desert: to listen and to stop seeking.   There is no oasis, yet I can hear the water running deep beneath the ground.  A pool, shallow and dark, tempts.  I thirst. I dip my toe in, feel the darkness rise up into my heart, and choose not to go in.  The puddle disappears; my toe lingers in a spot of cool, dark sand.  I walk on, without need, without longing, confident that I am the desert, the spring, the oasis.  When ready, another listening soul will pass by the dark and shallow puddle to converge with me, two desert springs creating a new oasis.