The dense flying dusts
Over years painted the sky
From the wind-carved dunes
Where the persistence sabkha
Glowing Hyacinths among dusts
Old traveller man’s shadow
Burning under his feet
And his weary camel
As old as the desert wind
The land of golden dusts
Battered by sun and cold sharp nights
Where the oasis hunters
Travel through time
After years when oil was found
The old cities shift their faces
Into secret paradise
With every sacrifice
It is the dream to live
Between culture and faith
Between earth and heaven
Just as beautiful as it is
But like a wild desert Hyacinth,
a dense pyramidal spike of bright yellow flowers,
Life is not always about beauty
For we, human, justify differences
Differences and rarity, sometimes, are another names of hate
Not every beauty is true
Not every dream is pure
But we, human, must stay to our roots
To keep our tongues and minds
In conversation with the Lord
And we could not fail to see
That every plants grow on the same earth
Wild desert Hyacinth grows
Vividly under the sky above dry dunes
Blooming beyond endless summer
For not everyone to see
Its dignity and glory
Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist
Poetry Prairie – 2015
Poetry Prairie 