The streets of Makkah
Long bordered with tall, tall homes,
White-washed homes, wooden homes,
Built on every corner, mountain top, ridge,
On the valley floor of the sacred land.
Tall, tall homes,
Centuries old homes,
Studded with brown aged latticed windows,
Overlooking mysterious labyrinths, winding walkways,
Alleys echoing with the passage of sounds,
Voices of those long gone.
Voices of families, friends all known to one another,
Welcoming strangers from other lands,
Spending sheeshah -filled nights,
Quite nights, loud nights,
In the open on the dakkah ,
Hours of tea drinking, hours of tales,
Brimming with told and untold stories,
Of past generations, present generations,
Held in the collective memory,
A memory retaining the glorious past,
Undeterred by the present.
* Sheeshah a water pipe used by men and women
** Dakkah a raised bench