The desert is a place of endless contemplation, and tart advice. There is life here, and, though different, nevertheless has lessons to teach such that might even bring a smile to a saint’s face. How do we describe a culture of sand, when we speak the language of water? The emptier the place you serve, the more abundant will be your belongings. We are leaving you, but our departure is such that our robe is sweeping all the dust on the floor as we depart. I can’t make you us, but wherever we go, let the words be etched into stones, that, much like a time capsule, one day the seeds of civilization will nourish themselves with such symbols. May the sand dunes of my country be reflected in my eyes whenever you look at me, its endless skies embellish the air around me. We don’t bow towards you, we prostrate ourselves. For inevitably, the line beyond the Kaaba to which we lower ourselves is almost always the new world. My tongue is tempted to say the word that would render me a foreigner, but the visage of my face should be enough to do that for me. We can only invite you to Majesty; it’s up to you to take up that challenge.