–published in the Scarlet Leaf Review-
Another time, same wind gusts are witness,
to a world of ever changing, uncharted sands of red and tan.
No tribal conflicts are troubling this place,
The hammer of the modern world has already been cast.
I hear the music of the shifting dunes
Chanting to worlds that have been here long before the present,
With a faint hum, low throated, drum like sealing sound.
Glowing under the moon, the lights of a thousand stars hanging from the sky,
Drench the desert like whiffs of wisdom.
I know,
That I have lived my entire life in the company of them,
Kneeling together to the same universe,
Feeling the life force.
Some girls wear different hats,
Mine is to thread the beads of civilization into the eternal loop,
and prove that that nothing disappears into the unknown.
I have been searching to make the Atlantis of the Sands real,
To find the lost city that was forgotten for thousands of years.
I keep planning my route,
And this is certainly the most spectacular adventure of my life.
My feet are aching, for days I’ve been begging for new feet, new arms,
stoic in my quest that I hope to carry through the next day and on.
Tonight, I feel so thirsty,
Drinking water from my canteen, barefoot,
I see my crew stretching,
The feeble sounds of their hymn sung in unison
Express visions of life that undulate across miles of silent sand.
“We’ll go at first light”, says the main porter,
I nod,
Knowing that the greatest honor bestowed upon us humans is survival.
Tomorrow is another day,
Neither bound nor free, we will keep walking.
We’re a band of loyal warriors fighting to assemble the puzzle that reveals the truth:
The past, the present, and the future are all connected,
We don’t own time, but we do own our history.
I believe in us,
Nothing is dust in the wind
And our songs will not fade mute.
Ancient flames of light flicker inside us,
Giving us purpose,
We will dive and emerge from the sea currents of time,
And trace past and present trails of human survival and civilization.
The story behind this poem
Because you’re here and you have read it, I’d like to tell you the story behind it. There are actually two stories: one is that of Gertrude Bell, and the other is that of a lost city.
Gertrude Bell
I’ve written about Gertrude Bell before. If you would like to read the full story, click here: Gertrude Bell- the real Indiana Jones woman. She was a misfit, one who naturally defied the stereotyped image of the woman of the early twentieth century. She was born in England in 1868 into a wealthy family. Her mother died when Gertrude was seven years old. She studied at Oxford. In fact, she was the first woman to graduate in Modern History at Oxford. A lot of records list her as an archaeologist or a writer, but for me, the focus should be on her travels, her quest to uncover unknown paths, and her cultural and political power in the Middle East. Her desert odyssey started in 1900, and she travelled across the Arabian desert many times. Many people thought of her as a species of lunatic British explorer. I think the fact that they underestimated her was her lucky charm.
Her knowledge helped the European powers decide how to carve Arabia after the war. There is a movie made about her and her travels: “Queen of the desert”.
Under the cover of archaeological research, she traveled to Hail to assess the Rashids, a historic Arabian House that was the most formidable enemies of the House of Saud. I don’t know what she saw or said, but we all know that Ibn Saud was the founder of Saudi Arabia. Many say that Gertrude was a spy. I don’t know how I feel about this. I guess if you’re not there, you don’t know the reasons, or if you didn’t read enough, you should not speak. So, I will not speak. I want to highlight her courage rather than the political games. She was also involved and played a significant role in the creation of Iraq. She served as a mediator between the Arab government and British officials, and later played an important role in the administration of Iraq.
So this is Gertrude’s story. Now, the Gertrude in my poem is a combination of the way I see the real Gertrude and myself. I’m simply drawn to the same wide places she loved.
The lost city of Ubar
The second story behind this poem is that of the lost city of Ubar, or the so-called Atlantis of the Sands. The quest to find this city began early, in 1930. But it wasn’t until 1992 that they actually found something that might be remnants of this city. Here is what they said about it :
In February 1992, The New York Times announced a major archaeological discovery in the following terms: “Guided by ancient maps and sharp-eyed surveys from space, archaeologists and explorers have discovered a lost city deep in the sands of Arabia, and they are virtually sure it is Ubar. When news of this discovery spread quickly around the newspapers of the world, there seemed few people willing or able to challenge the dramatic findings, apart from the Saudi Arabian press. The discovery was the result of the work of a team of archaeologists led by Nicholas Clapp, which had visited and excavated the site of a Bedouin well at Shisr (18° 15′ 47 N” 53° 39′ 28″ E) in Dhofar province, Oman. The conclusion they reached, based on site excavations and an inspection of satellite photographs, was that this was the site of Ubar, or Iram of the Pillars, a name found in the Quran which may be a lost city, a tribe, or an area.”
A contemporary sign at the entrance to the archaeological site at Shisr in the province of Dhofar, Oman, proclaims: “Welcome to Ubar, the Lost City of Bedouin Legend.”[9]However, scholars are divided over whether this really is the site of a legendary lost city of the sands.” Source: Wikipedia
I think it is an interesting story, and there are a lot of resources on the web where you could read more about it.
Inspiration doesn’t end with one story — it continues through others who dared, created, and believed.
