​My parents were old when I was born,
Resigned to bareness.
And when I came,
No other brothers or sisters followed;
I have always been alone.
Even in childhood, I wandered in the desert
While my mother and father
Rested their bones.
In the heavy heat of afternoon,
I found the place where the bees built their hives,
Near the caves where the wildflowers bloom.
There, all alone,
I first tasted honey
And knew that this little joy
Would be the only ecstasy God would grant me
Other than his own whispers
In my inner ear.
Back home among humans,
I was awkward and strange.
I stared out toward the desert
While people were speaking;
I was not as clean as they wanted me to be.
I smelled like an untamed camel,
And my parents were unable
To find me a wife.
But I was content in the wilderness,
And though the nights were cold in the desert caves,
God spoke to me in the sandy wind.
I know I am lower than a locust,
But I am happy with who I am—happy
To repeat the words I have heard
In my desert dreams,
Happy that my cousin has come to me,
Ready to begin.