Tohono

others call this land barren,
but not I
I see the bounty of the desert
the beauty in the sands

the blossoms on the cacti,
whose arms reach for the sky
the mountains which surround us in soothing hues,
all shades of shadowed purple and blue

the bright sky overhead, sun shining
as its heat sinks into my bones
raising the shimmers of mirages
at the edge of my sight

at night, across the horizon, a painter's dream
vibrant reds, purples, and oranges streak across the sky
they fade into deepest indigo, speckled with starlight
as the coyote sing to the moon

and when the days are longest
and the sun beats overhead
when the plants are brown and the earth is dust
then shall I dance and pray

with arms raised joyfully to the sky
my feet shuffle in the sand
I call the rain with lilting voice
and welcome the storms home

grey clouds roll across the desert
I welcome the downpour with joy
the soil drinks thirstily, not a drop wasted
and the desert blooms green

a bounty here, amidst the heat
the land's beauty come awake
I give thanks to the place my heart calls home
as my people partake

Desert Strangler

Familiar

The natural deep-hued ombre hide and gold-tipped spines of the desert strangler are an exquisite sight to behold in the setting sun.

1950

Matucana Polzii

Plant

These clusters of cacti must be consumed with care.

24

2

Bunny Ear Cactus

Trinkets

Easy to cultivate in the Shifting Expanse.

27

Potted Cactus

Trinkets

A lair plant for the inattentive.

27

Desert Cactus

Plant

Removing the spines before consumption is a painstaking task to avoid a paintasting treat.

24

2

Prickly Strangler

Familiar

It's pointy, poisonous, and venomous; the perfect friend.

1950

Shaman of the Tohono O'odham people. Her rituals nourish and bring life to the desert.



Sand of quartz, sand of stone,
Upon the land it enthrones.
Dry to the core, it calls out for more,
Water, of the môr.

Dance, prance, through drifts of sand,
Feet gracing the shifting lands.
In hopes of rain, she summons,
In hopes of joy, she murmurs.

From skies blue to skies grey,
The shaman watches her prey.
From seas far, the clouds gather,
Bringing hope for those of the desert mother.

Splash, the first drop falls,
The hungry land taking it in its jaws.
Withered roots awake once more,
To feed on the blessed saltless môr.

She springs to life, as does her home,
A paradise among stone.
Life appraises the one who danced,
The one of old magic, who takes the chance.

poem by the absolutely incredible Flitt