Whispers From The Tent
King of the Wind
Agba leapt to his feet. He wanted to climb the tower of the mosque. He wanted to blow on the trumpet. He wanted to cry to the four winds of heaven: “A foal is born. And he will be swift as the wind of the desert, for on his hind heel is a white spot. A white spot. A white…“
Just then a shaft of early sunlight pierced the window of the stable and found the colt. It flamed his coat into red gold. It made a sun halo around his head.
Agba was full of fear. He opened his mouth but no sound escaped. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe this foal was not real. The golden coat. The crown of sun rays. Maybe he was a golden horse belonging to the chariot of the Sun!
“I’ll capture him with a name,“ the boy thought quickly. And he named the young thing Sham, which is the Arabic word for sun.