Rooted In Grain And Grace Poem by Yousif Ibrahim Abubaker Abdalla

Upon the eastern verge of sky and grain,
Where dawn spills amber over patient fields,
Stands Al Mafaza-measured, unadorned, A quiet citadel the open plain conceals.
Here, sesame blossoms in the tempered wind,
And sorghum bows in disciplined array;
The sun, austere, refines the human will,
Yet cannot burn the town's resolve away.
Its people-palms in earth profoundly set, Rise with the call that cleaves the fragile morn;
In calloused hands lie covenants of bread,
In steadfast hearts, a dignity newborn.
No threshold here denies the stranger's step;
Before the knock, the welcome has begun.
Tea steams like incense of abiding grace,
And honor stands-unyielding as the sun.
The market hums with braided tongues of trade,
With laughter cast like seed on fertile air;
And when the crescent crowns the velvet dusk,
Old stories gather, luminous and spare.
Though roads extend beyond the furthest ridge,
And youth pursue horizons yet untried,
Each path, in longing's quiet arithmetic,
Returns to where their truest roots abide.
O Al Mafaza-field and faith entwined,
May rain remember every waiting seam;
May peace descend like evening over grain,
And crown your soil with harvests yet to dream.