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Just a Tourist
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Dust
Early in the morning, in a desert land dreamscape, a little girl walked up to me. Her face covered in dust, hair disheveled, she motioned me to bend low and when I did she cupped her hand and whispered these words：
'In last night's wind the rose thorn tore the petal;
the heart mind is torn by compassion.
Body releases the fragrance of Love.
Don't be too quick to shun your pain,
your stress, your loneliness. Secrets are
hidden within life's hardships.
Sometimes the dust of the road adds beauty to your face.
Sometimes the streaks of tears are radiant like sunshine.
Sometimes salt adds depth to sweetness.'
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