Upon the vast expanse of golden grains,
Where time forgets its endless chase,
The whispers of the desert plains,
In silence, find their gentle grace.

Beneath the sun’s relentless gaze,
The shifting dunes in dance they move,
In patterns wild, a timeless maze,
Their silent stories softly prove.

Each grain a world, a tiny sphere,
In unity they form the land,
A tapestry both far and near,
Intricate as the artist’s hand.

The wind, a gentle guiding force,
Shapes the landscape, ever wide,
In harmony, they chart their course,
Together, they forever bide.