~The Grains of Gold ~

Oman - Wind in Wahiba Sands
Originally uploaded by © Lucie Debelkova

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

Thought: Okay this poem was written in 2005 ...
This is a journey of a bidu where he has to presue his trips going beyond the heat and walking on the golden grains which is the desert. He can not go back as his is the son of the desert and no matter what obstacle he faces he remains a bidu his homland is the desert. the first part is on the weather that he has to face. Second part the Desert it self where he walks but history does not record his trail as his footsteps fades with the wind and he is like the sand fated to always travel sometime not even sure of the distination he is heading.
Thrid part is the obstacles he faces and his goal to reach beyond anything...

The Photo is from Al Wahaiba Sands in Oman ..

~Work of Translation~

Yemen - 2007 '12 december - 0161 - The Empty Quarter Desert
Originally uploaded by © Lucie Debelkova

On a search of tranquil path
A deserted desert to be my home
So I can sink within
Sink within the grains
No words in here
Nor a vibrating voice
Except the sand
That waits in silence
Then the wind
Gives a visit to this desert land
Translates all the silence of sand
So it can print a new language
A dialect of its own
On a surface where no page is needed
A page of sand dunes
Scripted poetry
Without letters and words
Within lines and curves
Read only by the wind and sand

copyrigh 2008 Nasra Al Adawi

"Even nature translates, do not be afraid to explore a new language. You never know how far it can get you"

Photo by Lucie Debelkova in flickr.com

~Drizzle On Me~

Crack
Originally uploaded by Crea.tive

"I miss wiritng and finding myself within poetry, here I am a desert longing for even drizzles on me"

~Drizzle On Me~

If drizzles falls
I will be here
To greet it with my soul
Why can I not receive it?
When it falls so gentle
At times so hesitant
To pour as rain
If it only knew that I needed
A bit of drizzle on me
So I can awake
Tickling with tiny droplets
Nourishing my senses
Moulting the desert on me
A renewal of where I have been
Standing as new
A new start I begin

Copyright 2008 Nasra Al Adawi

photo with apperciation from flickr.com by Crea.tive