A Journey

The heat bounces off the hardened ground,

With the movement the echoing sound,

The hot sand kicked up by many feet,

The whirling winds turn it into a blinding sheet.

Amongst the blinding sand moves a long caravan,

Travelling to a far away land,

Many men and women, old and young,

Many people speaking a different tongue.

The heat bounces off their well travelled clothes,

The fabric tossing and dancing as the wind billows,

The hot sand kicked up by many feet,

Covers everything and anything in a fine dust sheet.

In the changing terrain moves a long caravan,

Travelling to a far away land.

Every single traveller with the same destination,

To make at Allah’s house duas and prostration.

The heat bounces off the Holy Mosque walls,

At times of the day the muazzin climbs up and calls.

The hot sand kicked up by many feet,

Many feet that seek to make Allah’s worship complete.

From the Holy City moves a long caravan,

Travelling back from a far away land.

Many men and women, young and old,

With hope of return and many stories to be told.

The heat bounces off the hardened ground,

With the movement the echoing sound.

The hot sand kicked up by many feet,

By more pilgrims seeking a reward so sweet.