Perfect Timings

 

Chasing sundowners in Berlin, Germany, 2024.

The innocence of perfect timings

sounds like an illusion, almost impossible 

yet something keeps us clinging, hoping

Perhaps it's in the rising of the sun, daily 

or the phases of the moon with promise

that tomorrow, the timing will make sense

Perhaps it's in the touches of laughter we share

the moments of vulnerability, to care

to let each other stroke our wounds

and feel every memory they carry with us

Such perfect timings that we get to marvel

at seasons that have made us cross paths

When perfect timings sit on the horizon

fading away like a mirage in the future

we glimpse at it in the distance with hope,

promises at heart, wishes in the stars

We are grounded by our imaginations

marveling at what tomorrow will bring

Or perhaps we are the perfect timings

placed in the places we are needed now

surrounded by the people we need now

What if perfect timings is us living now

What if we have always been there

and it was waiting for us to realize it

And so, wait, it is only a day closer

Hold onto those parts of each other

that keeps the wait worth the time

As seasons come and go in assurance 

the same assurance is for perfect timings

Everything works in its time for our good

I Made You...for Me

 A voice, you have none

because I made you for me

so it is only my voice you use

Do not abuse my belabourement

or confuse it for empowerment

and start to question my sanity

Where would you really be

if I did not pick you from the gutters

and give you the space to be seen

That is what you did not understand

that yours was to be beside me always

and be seen for how I made you

Then you even forget, without gratitude

and begin to talk, using my very voice

to give power to yourself, such selfishness

Even a hunter knows his place in the forest

he has no voice over the creatures of the thickets

he bows before them with humility, honours them

But you, that I gave a voice, such despot

you dare think you can use it on me

not even a servant speaks before his master

Tame your fibble illusions of empowerment

yours is like shouting in the echos of a forest

like a werewolf wounded in the night

You have no voice, that much I can promise

and if you think this is one of my crazy jokes

watch how I use my voice to subdue you

Petals in a bud...

Her soul in his hands is like petals in a bud

the sand timer started on her life then

petal after petal he flaked her being

season after season the petal dried

he thought they looked beautiful spread out

Little by little he got to the bud

and had her brittle soul exposed to the winds

the sand timer trickled some more

and then the heavier winds took the bud

it was too weak to stand its strength

Then he started to see the petals dry

still, they looked beautiful spread out

season after another he watched them

soon they withered and dried out

they could not hold on without the bud

It was like a soul was gone in time

and body decaying for lack of it

until the sand timer dropped its last

then he realises the petals are no more

he gathers them into a jar and waters them

He hopes they can turn a fiery beautiful

but no, the water can't bring the radiance

they are gone to another world 

to be created to another soul, maybe

but he's a man full of the pride of humanity

He stands the petals at the window

hoping the sun can bring them to life

his pride doesn't let him

he believes and hopes they spring

he owns them they are his

They will grow he tells his defeat

they must sprout he tells his ego

so, he tightens the lid of the jar

and waits even if his soul dies

he waits some more on the other side

But it takes them into a transition

another life, another sand of time

in the hope that they find a kinder soul

and maybe the bud can sprout again

hopefully the petals stay with the bud.

The time you lived...

Tell me about the time you lived

that one time you felt everything

when rainbows created butterflies in you

the dust from raindrops tasted good 

the tapping of rain pellets on your window

how you counted each one after another

Tell me about the time you lived

when muddy puddles sparkled your heart

moonlight on an empty street healed your soul

that one time when you climbed trees

and ate java plums while hanging on its branches

Tell me about the time you lived

chasing after the sound of the posho mill in injerekha

balancing shimwero on your head for a chance at small talks

or how the village came alive with disco matanga

and you created large bonfires dancing late into the night

when caution was in the winds and the world was yours

Tell me about the time you lived

remind me about the stories of Indeche the humpman

stories that sent chills through the village and fear in your veins

only to realize that the ancstors were protecting you 

because they knew you had a different assignment 

you needed to go out and be a Nandiri, fulfilling dreams

Tell me about the time you lived

telling endless stories by the maika with kukhu

sleeping in the same hut with firewood, cows and chicken

and yet experiencing a peace irreplaceable to date

grounding yourself with the earth and all in it

when nature protected you so you could live

giving you memories to remind you to always come back

Tell me about the time you lived

soaking your feet in the flowing rivers of mulwakupa

hailed by mutarakwa trees aligned like street lights

how about the early morning msamaria mwema bus rides

with mud wedged shoes from the red clay sugar soils of Mumias

protected by the 'dangerous' cane cutters of the twilight 

strutting into Kisumu town at dawn squeezed in a pouring bus

reaking of market sellers and fish mongers headed to nam Lolwe

just in time for the first streaks of sunlight

Tell me about the time you actually lived...

Voices in my head

Sometimes in the silence of my head

voices find space and begin to talk

I am reminded that here is that place

the one that I longed for many years

a place where joy is in abundance

a place where every day is a sunrise

even in the foggiest of fall, all dusk

a ray of sunrise finds its way inside

In the silence of my head music wafts

soft drumming and winds cloud the air

a beautiful symphony just for my soul

I am reminded of the many lonely nights

of manifestations and late night chants

of tears and a heart so pained and broken

I called all the names I could remember

and my forefathers showed up for me

In the eerie silence of my heart

a higher being interceded on my behalf

a higher being reminded me of my worth

and guardian angels were sent my way

I have never known a love so pure 

and a heart with nothing but gratitude

if this is what I am living longer for

then I am showing up and showing out

In the dreams the voices finally spoke

your mind is what will take you far

the universe has laid your constellation

your paths are known to you if you listen

you are exactly where you should be

for that is the path to your destination

carry a lighter load in your mind

so that the journey is lighter in your heart

Sometimes in the middle of those voices

I hear my own voice whispering to me

as your heart desires the skies listen

the clouds will always cover you from rain

you will go beyond the waters of the land

you are a protected and preserved child

and I believe because I am a dreamer. 

Winds of far lands...

We stood at the heart of life

certain about our footsteps 

knowing that the road started here

and that our destinations were promised

only if we followed the sounds of the winds

the winds of far away lands from here

We raised our eyes into the skies

gazed beyond the clouds into the heavens

what our eyes would see our hearts would keep

that was the assurance of our believing 

if we looked beyond just seeing the winds

those that blew from lands far away from here

With our hands stretched out to the lands

we waited in earnest for the harvests

we had toiled with those bare hands

we had soiled our garments chasing after birds

fighting them away into the winds beyond

yet still the far away winds brought a drought to us

To the heart of life, back we went

searched through our voices for an answer

soaked our feet in the running waters of the land

opened up our souls to the forests trees for memories

stripped naked our minds to the music of the winds

and the winds of the far land settled us, they heard us

The winds of the far lands vindicated us

the music of the winds caused us to dance

the forests sheltered our exploded souls

and the cool waters of the land splattered on our faces

reminded us who we are and what we represented

the children of a bigger cause,  from lands beyond the winds

The village lovers

credits:sima safari, https://simasafari.com/national_parks/kakamega-forest-national-reserve/

 

Sit still and let’s wait for the harvest

when the farms will be green and full

with great mazes for us to run around

and live like the children our hearts are

 

Stay calm and let’s watch for the rains

when the grounds will be soaked wet

and the puddles will be water full

then we can put on boots and jump in

 

Look, watch, listen, feel with your eyes

the waves of the hills that make this place

the memories of hundreds of years of love

for a place that holds nothing but identity for us

 

It is the sounds from the rivers that keep us

talking to us in our ancestral languages

keeping us grounded with its constant flow

and letting us live by its waters every day

 

And the birds, in lovely humming tunes

reminding us of our lively hearts

and keeping us working hard in the farms

and never wanting to leave each other’s side

 

Here, hold my hands and don’t be afraid

the forests is where our spirits live

it is the place we get to be us for once

and create generations to tell our stories

 

We are just village lovers living this life

believing in our souls and nature around us

reminding ourselves of the realness of love

and its relevance to our existence on earth