If you are the Son of God, find a desert
where breezes seethe like oven-fans
and rocks bake themselves
or sit parched before the blurred oasis
where mermaids guzzle champagne
and giant cacti pump the pools
with fresh water.
If jackals yowl behind the dunes
and scorpions scrape the dust
at your heels, these pass
like hunger, thirst;
the hardest test is not the little devil
with his kingdoms, but the sand
cooling your head each night
you think of home.
(based loosely on Matthew 4: 1-11)