Walk In His Traces

I dreamed I was walking in the desert
there were footprints in the dust of the trail.
I stepped in them and found myself dancing.

One gate stood open in an iron fence
on it, the mark of a hand.
When I touched it sparks flew.

In the noise and confusion of the crowd
I heard a voice whisper:
"La illaha il Allah."
I turned and saw no-one, only footprints
and the city shone with brilliant light.

The world bears witness to the presence of a few--
walk in their traces.