Camel-A Clumsy Beast

 Camel-A Clumsy Beast

Clumsy and slow, yet steadfast and wise,
Across the scorching sands it strides—
A living vessel, sun-baked, lean,
The desert’s lord, its patient queen.

No hoof, but padded, soft and wide,
It treads where brittle dunes abide.
No storm of sand, no furnace air
Can halt its march through wastelands bare.

For Abraham, a wealth untold,
For Job, three thousand—priceless gold.
Through Sheba’s pomp, through caravans,
It bore the dreams of desert clans.

And as it walked, the poets sang—
Of battles fierce, of love’s sweet pang,
Of dark-eyed maids and cooling streams,
Of phantom oases in their dreams.

The rhythm swayed with every stride,
The verses matched the beast’s slow glide.
Then faster songs would lift its head,
And drive it forth where silence fled.

No water is stored in secret cells,
No magic hump where liquid dwells—
Just flesh and fat, endurance true,
And salt to drink when journeys are through.

Oh, clumsy beast, so strange, so grand,
You shaped the fate of sealess land.
Without your strength, without your tread,
The desert’s songs would all lie dead.

Sham Misri