Welcome to the Desert

The journey is long and hot; our bags are heavy and we stink.

The bus is full and wobbles with every bump and turn.

Up through the desert mountains a winding road like a roller coaster

moves us forward towards a place we have never known.

Camels, tan, brown, black, one hump, two, and a baby.

Goats enjoying an argan nut snack, one is up in a tree.

These are the tree climbing kind of goat.

2 women, 1 man stand in the road as the bus driver stomps on the breaks.
They get on.

2 claps will stop the bus; you can get off anywhere.

We are alone on the road in the desolate desert.

What if the bus breaks down?

Do we have enough water?

Just imagine, but we arrive with water to spare.

This is Morocco.

We are home.

We sleep under the stars in a concrete courtyard.
In a metal crib with a cardboard mattress sleeps Adam.

On the ground sleep mother, father, sister, brother.
We lay on a bed, because Moroccans are welcoming and generous.

Behind a wooden door are 3 sheep and 1 goat.

Above us the north star and the big dipper.

Cats wander in under the front door to sniff for scraps.
A radio in the distance sings a song in minor key while a donkey brays.

The desert breeze ruffles our sheet.

This is Morocco.
We are home.