30 in Marrakesh

I open my eyes. There are so many people in the room. The walls are hospital green. Everyone comes close to me. I dont recognise any of these people. Who are they and why are they so happy? Is this really happening? Is this the perfect circle? So many suns, so many trees, its so green outside. Everyone is in white. I can hear the sound of wheelchairs on a shiny white marble floor. Its all so new. Its a bright, bright day. Its November, 1975. And in November, 2005, I will be 30. This time I hope I open my eyes in Marrakesh.