If he could, he would have pierce the blue sky with a dagger,
A knife so sharp it could tear away the fabric of the horizon,
To bring rain onto his garden and feed his goats, he however cannot- he is just but a man.
He cannot tear the sky, nor can he move his drying garden to where the rain falls ,
As one drives their herds and family to where the grass is greener,
He cannot bear to abandon his garden, even though it's drying up, even though it's becoming barren.
He had put all effort into his garden, but he cannot protect it from the sweltering heat of the glaring sun,
He has no option but to return to his herd, because as a nomad he has no fixed place in this world.
YOU ARE READING
Pierce The Sky
PoetryA book on poems to preseve the somali culture, lives of the nomadic people and the semi nomadic somalis of the North Eastern Region. 🇸🇴
