Dry, chilly wind, cold, shivering, walking,

On a hill, panting, tired, carrying loads,
Target: another hill, far but not terribly,
Migrating, like birds, seasonal, it is snowing.

Like nomads, Bedouins, but not a desert.
On a field, snow-covered grass, no oases,
A rabbit follows, sometimes two, I walk,
Now uphill, more tiresome, more pauses.

Fingers numb, pain as sharp as needles,
I am this Life’s patient, no complaints,
Patience, no cure, I have faith, a Muslim,
An Arab, carrying my name, voice, and mind.

Friday, 9th of March 2012


Abdulla AlKendi said...

Nice descriptive piece!

Loved the last stanza (y)

Bu Thyab said...

Glad that you liked it, and thnx for passing by big bro :)