The Longing by Nimah Nawwab
How her spirit
Entices us all!
Will the time come
For my ideas to roam
Across this vast land’s deserts,
Through the caverns of the Empty Quarter?
For my voice to be sent forth,
Crying out in the stillness of a quiet people,
A voice among the voiceless?
For my thoughts, that hurl around
In a never-ending spiral,
Mature, grow and flourish
In a barren wasteland of shackled minds?
Will my spirit be set free—
To soar above the undulating palm fronds?
Will my essence and heart be unfettered,
Of man-made Thou Shall Nots?