Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

The Mysticism of the desert lives on in my Bedouin

by Carmen Katz

I met him in a bustling city, on my way to find myself I found him
Through the façade of the dust of daily life
It was his eyes that drew me in.
That captivated me with their piercing stare.
I felt almost violated as he peered into my soul, 
like a true Bedouin descendant he could see beyond the surface.
Like his ancestors had done in the desert years ago.

The more I get to know him the less I feel I know.
This kind man who remains in my heart, as generous and loyal.
His gentle approach and soft voice belied his strong character.
Dark and mysterious with a militant stance, 
He shared his spirit with me but as I have learned the mysticism remains.

I was, in one moment, intrigued. 

A Bedouin, an alchemist, lives with the true elements of earth. 
Perpetual wanderers fully adorned with cloth who used only their eyes.
Their eyes are their history and he used mine to see through me.
The window to my soul, the doorway to my inner noise.

Nomads, who roamed the place of biblical beginnings.
Their simple lives enjoyed through folk music and poetry.
This Bedouin is now my poetry.
He helped me grow in ways he will never know.
The magic of our connection transcended my previous experiences and it is now
that I realise 
The mysticism of the desert lives on in my Bedouin.

Added: 27.04.2011

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