“Do not be saddened that you cannot return to Afghanistan.
Your blood is already heavily spiced.
The call to prayer already rings in your ears,
Hums, shivers, resoundes in your dusty soul.
The cityscape, hazed and vibrant,
Beckons you to wander,
In search of gems,
Kites to fly in their eyes.
Old stories to sing,
In new and foreign songs.
The smell of cardamom and cream,
will take you far beyond
what your mind is willing to remember.”