Sometimes the roads will take you nowhere,
Sometimes the way to go is barely real
Places I visit again in my memory
Retrace the way the deserts made me feel.
The deserts of Egypt stretch endless
Glisten; dream in the heat of the day
And as I taste sand in the air,
Our taxi stops for the driver to pray.
Memories almost fade and fail
Reminiscing never seems to cease
Just like the colours of Bedouin tents,
Their people or the tourists they tease.
The deserts of Egypt rebuke me:
I come from a place with forest and rain
A place that I barely remember
Out here on this road, on this plain.
This plain that chimes stories in silence
Buried with each grain of the sand,
Distance so near I can almost feel
The sharp horizon in my hand.
And sometimes the deserts still beckon
Call to me in the dreams of the day;
Ask me to visit again in my memory,
To slow down like the driver, to pray.
