WIND

no spring cleaning
in history
no matter how deep
can rival with this

crazy broom
of the gods
sweeping the skies
above

the wind of Sinai
blows and blows
and blows
dusting us all

tireless
merciless
intoxicating
fierce

my every fibre
is alert
awake
aware

it exhausts me
and picks me up
whenever i dare think
i have enough

deep down
my cells
tremble in awe
and fear

how do you
get used
to such unending
friction?

walking
turns into effort
climbing
becomes danger

i balance
on strange rocks
howling with the wind
fighting it back

when suddenly
i feel
its embrace
elevating

its million hands
holding me
tight
steadying me

help me
climb
higher and
higher

the lagoon
reveals itself
below
and i am the wind

a few days
do not suffice
a lifetime
probably either

whether one
chooses it
or is born with it
the Sinai wind blows

teaching me
patience
and respect
and acceptance

i am a stubborn
student
some days
i’ll still fight back

because
to find oneself
swept
suddenly so clean

to see oneself
freed of so much
dead skin
and dust and residue

is no easy
feat
to find oneself
suddenly so much

lighter!