We are anything but barren



We are anything but barren

We are anything but barren.

Those tiny mounds of gold that blow,

Obliged to shift; the parched winds being their foe,

Bless the lands far beyond with our fortune.


The salt in the air, with the sand in our hair,

The 'dreary desert' was far, far away from being anything but barren.

With the sun above and liquid gold below,

We glide through the desiccated vicinity.


You enjoy the rain, but we?

We have gone far too long without it.

So go ahead and say that we 'sucked the water out of your soul',

And romanticize the rain and the moon.


And we? We will present to you the immortalized,

The brightest star, the fuel in your cars,

The salt in your food, the pearls on your neck.

So tell me again, are we barren?


We sit on the rocks right at the shores,

Where the water, clear as crystal, reflects,

The shades of orange and pink.

The 'dhows', the nets, something you would never know.


We have been ignored so long that

Our sandstorms now have rebellion as its epicentres.

Declare wars yet again, for, the things

You dare not canonize, yet desire.


We are anything but barren.

Thicker skins than the cacti we love,

And date trees that have our history engraved deep within.

This 'dreary' place that you've made it, was once the only place we knew.


We often seem to disappear,

Modesty; right beneath our thick skin.

But like the oasis, we arise

After all, desire of the unknown is a dangerous affair.


We are small, weak and unknown,

Haven't seen the snow or the hail you often seem to praise.

We may not be able to idealize the rain like you do,

But when it rains,

We know its worth.


So tell me again, are we really barren?


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