When the wind blew me
It was a sojourn.
It began on a travel with freight
My feet were almost bare on sun – baked clay
My sandals tired, the soles were but thin grafts
My water can hung like a noose,
But I was home.
Home amidst the black – faced Impalas,
The striped horses, those whose heads
Bear eyes on the sides, with stumps for horns.
The Jackal’s desert home.
All was silent but for a short while.
Then, there was a rush from the east
A wild gust had my shirt in the air
Like a parachute ;my feet would no longer crawl,
They had gained momentum.
High above the rocks – the abode of the hyraxes,
I leapt like the wild goats in the mountains,
For a while I thought I would make a home in the cypresses
Like the storks.
I hovered like a bird, over the Mediterranean sea ;
Raging oceans, pounding waves,
I bet my eyes beheld the heads of Leviathan
Oh! how my excitement pierced the clouds
Like the sound of rivers clapping their hands in glee
Oh! how I glided amongst the Sycamore
Figs- flourishing like a tree in its native soil,
Catching a fistful of sweet honey,
Honey dripping from the heart of the comb,
With feathers of gold glistening like the sun,
The wind had lent me the darker of its hue.
I swept across valleys carpeted with the finest wheat,
Springs that poured forth into ravines,
Melting the clods, leveling the ridges
With wild donkeys quenching their thirst,
And an orchestra of nesting birds
Their song awakening everything good :
Lush pastures clothed with sheep
The hillsides with spring flowers blossoming with joy,
Poplars strong like the cedars of Lebanon,
Fine wine that makes the heart glad,
Olive oil that soothes the skin…
But like dreams that disappear,
The sun let out its last of burnt – orange
And the moon was birthed
I hear it marks the beginning of new seasons.