# Lost in Storms
Will I know it again, my willing feet
Graze the path. I hear your voice
My waning strength, my fading will
Will I ever add meaning to my life.
These streets, narrowed down,
I saw your tulips growing
On you. Your rose cheek in tendril hair
But will you, on the sand again
In lighter steps lead me there…
The last ones though, are lost in storms.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
A native of the Moroccan Berber tribe scouts ahead in the vast Sahara desert for the location of camp.
Location: Sahara desert outside of Merzouga, Morocco
Comments about this poem (# Lost in Storms by Sadiqullah Khan )
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