While driving around one summer afternoon
The thick sand from the previous night’s storm filled the air
My mind wondering as the desert street appeared
The gutters rising with the waste-away smell
Along the sidewalks, children played with water
Their faces full with laughter and glee
So unaware, so unaware, their minds were
As my mind drifted on and on, thoughts began to fill me up
These young ones were next in line to save the world, I pondered
Their bright wide smiles troubled me, asking me questions
Questions needing answers; answers I have refused to use
One summer day, about noon or so
While drifting through the desert streets
Children played along the road
Laughter in the air, as they chased each other about
Their smiles care-free haunted me, asking –
“Where’s your own quota of life?”
“Where’s proof you fought for our souls?”
As the heat poured on skin
These questions haunted me making my mind sweat
“Where’s your quota, Mister?”
“Where’s your grain of sand?”
“Answer us, Mister?” Their voice asked me in unison.
“Where’s proof you left earth fighting for our souls?”
One day, it was
When the evening had come, night about
The desert streets now empty
Those children long gone,
Some to their mother’s warmth
The rest gone to the desert coldness
I walked along the streets
My mind reflecting, glaring inwards
My voice shaken by their smiles awakens
“Long time, no see” I say to it
“Thanks for calling me back,” it replies back to me.
