Cosmic Sand — the loop

finding the tribe we are lost from

2 min readJan 8


a shamanic figure dances in the midst of a bright cloud of sparks and embers at night, boasting a colorful mask and long robe
Manyu Varma

by Quinn Zhael

Arid like the desert
Desert yellow sand
Sand so soft and fine
Fine and warm, as your hand

Like dunes ever-shifting
Shifting and rearranging
Rearranging highlights and shadow
Shadows dancing, undulating

Dreaming of the chance
Chance of finding the tribe we are lost from
From the culture we belong in
In my hands, your face, the sun

We saw them from afar
Afar, bright colors smeared by heat
Heat waves wavered towards us
Us waiting now to meet

Meet our kind
Kind and gentle nomads
Nomads pensive, creative, dreamy
Dreamy vibrant comrades

Comrades dress us in their garments
Garments gold and blue and teal
Teal tattoos upon our arms
Arms that wear our tribal seal

Seal that binds us to our tribe
Tribe prepares initiation
Initiation of our souls
The Oracle speaks her divination

Divination of our future
Future feats of our two children
Children crown us with blue flowers
Flowers for wedding among our brethren

Brethren build a wooden arch
Arch for us to stand beneath
Beneath the stars of desert night
Night sky adorned by silver wreath

Wreath of flowers, faces painted
Painted bodies robed in silk
Silk and gold adorn our arch
And we are wed amongst our ilk

Ilk that dance in celebration
Celebration of our return
Return and kneel in adoration
Watching sacred fires burn

Burning bright, the elders sing
Upon my hand you place a ring
Ring of children holding hands
Encircle us in new beginning

Beginning of our new tradition
We sit ‘round the nightly fire
Fire tended by our Elders
Elders sing in secret choir

Choir singing songs of cosmos
Cosmic songs; before the moon
Moon Goddess came here to ordain
Ordain our tribe and offer boon

Boon of knowledge
Knowledge, words
Words that sing and fly through night
Night adorned with singing birds

Birds from east and west and north
Winged escorts as we walk forth
Owls and finches; foreign songs
We walk as one now and henceforth

We don’t build structures
Structures to hide in like cages
Cages of the modern man
Man cowers when the sandstorm rages

But we stand tall, staffs in the air
Air commanded by our magic
Magic gathered throughout millenniums
Millenniums since desert tribe was pelagic

We are rulers of the elements
Elements; earth, air, fire, water
When the Oracle is gone
Gone; carry on as her chosen daughter

I’ll tell of my dreams
Dreams that foretell of rain or heat
And you, our priestly hunter
Hunter returns with furs and meat

Priestly hunter, sinew and bare-chested
Upon your shoulders, imposing and fearsome birds
Birds red and gold, spear glinting in the sun
Sun sparkling in your eyes as you murmur holy words

By Quinn Zhael

13 stories
a shamanic figure dances in the midst of a bright cloud of sparks and embers at night, boasting a colorful mask and long robe




No Expert But Of Himself — aka Trystn Waller. Just writing what I know, a bit of what I think I know, hopefully I help others know a bit more than they knew.