In the desert I am a grain,
A nomad breathing to the wind the sun the sand,
The climate shifts and I shift.
Around the fire of the night, the deserts’ animals wake
And, with a sea of pearls over my turbaned-head,
I sit telling tales, singing, playing and sharing,
Daytime. On my camel, heading where the wind wills.
In the desert, never alone, a rider and his steed
Listen to the weather’s whispers,
The directions heat dictates,
They follow the beat of nature’s drum.
They know that they are free.
Issa A. Dioume 