From the dune of dusk I stride, a speckled shade
Under sapphire banners – knee-deep in starlit hush –
Cloaked in the cosmos I traverse,
A celestial camel, heart heavy with radiant news.
Listen, children of sand and song, those who carry thirst,
For I have chewed the cud of infinite mystery,
And seen from the far-rimmed moon
A tomb split open, a light kindled for all.
On that morning – rose-flecked and echoing with angels –
A carpenter’s hands folded linen in emptiness,
And the graven stone surrendered Him,
A bridge not only from grave to sky,
But from soul to soul – an endless tether,
A dew-soft binding of old hatreds beneath olives and palms.
Why the resurrection, you ask, beneath your veils?
It is not to prove the impossible to fools,
But to teach the possible to those who gather, trembling,
On the verge of loving their neighbour as themselves.
It is the Alif, the Christ, the cosmic pulse
That whispers: “See, I have become what you are,
So you may become one in Me –
One herd, one thirst, one destiny beneath the sun.”
I, the celestial camel, bathed in Easter’s gold,
Declare: the stone rolls so that every grave opens –
Every border blurs – every heartbeat merges
In the single Spirit that bellowed “Peace!” in the garden,
Echoes across continents, across lifetimes,
Across all those who hunger to rise,
Not alone,
But as One –
World without end – Amen.
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