If I had the fierce courage
of the Bedouin,
seeing a carpet of sand
consume the vastness of the sky,
I would bow my head
to the sacrifice of God.
To the heartbeats he put inside me.
The oasis of thirst that he would know
in my problematic embrace of Him.
That he could feel the sweetness
of my supreme devotion,
rising from my soul at birth,
confronting the empty dunes
of the desert.
I would put the flower of my humanity
in the sand,
and have the universe see the face
of my love uncrushed,
with the infinite breath of agape
in my lungs,
where the psalms of God are sung.