The Grains of Gold

The Grains of Gold

It begins…
A mild breeze
Blowing softly
In an early dawn
Through the empty quarters
Humidity snatches
The heavenly taste of air
In the heat of burning rays

The heat takes its tool on me
Undeterred walking to my destined journey
My home is nothing but grains of gold
My feet imprints quietly
Leaving traces
A statement that once I took this path
In time the footsteps are erased
The grains are traveler like me
Fated with the journey of wind
Unsheltered even by a tent

My hands are inborn to climb the golden dunes
To mount any length or height
My instinctive feet crosses the ocean of sand
I will cross it million times
Many times in the past
And many more of my remaining years
I sank in quicksand- the unknown
Took a bit of its pinch
I tasted the bite of rattlesnake
Yet unmoved by this wilderness
Unafraid to fall in my destined pit
I’m the son of these golden dunes
The ocean of emptiness with nothing but grains of sand-
My motherland

copyright 2005 nasra al adawi