Never

Flooded, I squint nearly overwhelmed by the piercing light.
The heat smacks my face like a jilted lover. Drawing from me as if
it where a thief in the night my breath.
I cannot take even a moment to collect myself; to draw a breath. I must press on,
completion of my work that is all that is before me.Each man must carry a burden, one that is
his and his alone. Mine is lighter then some, and yet greater then the multitudes, I embrace it
upon broad shoulders. To whatever end providence has designed.
I hear the whispers thru the ages. Voices of those long dead. They sing the chorus of this place.
That from these sands upon which I trod, life first sprang. Yet my weary eyes cannot see any traces
of the beauty that was Eden. I seek the waters, the flowing rivers that fed mighty Babylon, the great
empires of Saladin and Alexander. Yet I find nothing, desolation, sand, and shrubs and barrenness.
There is nothing of Paradise in the lands before me. Or so you would say upon first glance.
Yet I see their treasure in the faces of the people. In a culture that has endured since time out of mind.
A people misunderstood and misrepresented by a few. With the strength of Allah, they hold to their faith, which has served them so well through the ages.
There's is not mine and yet I understand. I toil everyday for their future. So that they may; with Allah's word clutched to their breast and burned in their hearts, have the chance that has been stolen from them for far to long.
While I long to return to my beloved home. To the amber waves of grain, to view once more the purple mountains
majesty. To raise my family among the rolling green hills of the midwest. I will never forget what I saw here.
What I learned here, or what I did in this desolate place.