Life-giving fig tree,
the destination of my dreams
for whom I have searched this desert far and wide
you remain just a dream.
You can't.
The desert is spreading.
This oasis is no more life-giving
Brown and dried up, it insults
the memories of shade and paradise.
the drops of water I waste on watering
disappear, there is no more water to give
You need the milk of a thousand camels
to revive you,
quilts made of silk and cotton to
shield you from the heat,
and the labors of farmers
whose care you have come to expect
I am a novice
wandering in the desert
with a water pitcher
My audience with the sufi master
is fast approaching
In his cave, he shall offer me silence
and the sweetness of a fig, water
scented with lemons
and a potion for pain
You shall go on growing
for your roots are strong
and the farmer with the camel's milk
is somewhere in the horizon
I am just a seeker of light
with a burnt-out torch,
lost in the obsideon-blackness of the night sky
The moon and the north star
have abandoned me
and the only sound I hear
is the corrupting protestation of my soul
At long last
the morning arrives with
an empty promise
and the reminder of the
impending death
I wander the last moments
with the memory of water,
the fig tree, and the milk
of a thousand camels.
