I can feel it, taste it, smell it.
Tunisia, the Mediterranean, the Sahara.
I wince as I close my eyes
And transport myself back
To the happiest times.
The warm water and wet sand
The gulls
My hijab billowing around my head.
Or to the sun streaming in the morning
The fragrance of the flower coming in on the breeze
The singing birds, in Africa.
A tear runs down my cheek
Remembering the sound of Aicha's voice
Calling us to breakfast.
The souk beckons me from 5000 miles
The smell of spices and florals filling my head.
How I long to walk again on the desert
To marvel at the vastness
To break its shell and touch the moist, salty grains beneath.
My senses swim with the memory of the sunrise over Tunis
As I said goodbye to the place where colors were more vibrant,
Food was like manna,
And my heart was truly happy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem