Why I am not a particle of the fertile soil?
That withstands the heavy rains and blow of winds,
I see a beautiful life that I don’t have.
I am jealous Oh my full! Please do something.
The desert smiled and said, look at me,
I am made of infinite sand particles,
That is why I am neat and clean and pure,
For becoming a fertile soil you will have to accept,
Rotten and impure organic substances, and then,
You will be fertile but dirty and impure.
You are pure like an angel with shines and brightness,
See your beauty when you reflect sun light and moon light.
The sand particle cried and told the desert,
If I shall be a particle of a fertile land,
I shall produce grains and fruits and flowers,
I shall enjoy the lovely showers, and when,
Greenery will come out of me, the sons and daughters,
Of Adam and Eve will call me a mother,
My Full! Let me become dirty and impure!
I want to reproduce, let the wind carry me to a fertile land.