To Kimathi

My heart’s resolve is like a root Determined to hold the trunk And leaves that soar skyward Firmly affixed to the ground. Should the wheels refuse to turn Should the wings refuse to flap Should the wind refuse to blow- I’ll creep and writhe homeward bound. And you who deem me crazy And strive to trim my wings- Can the roots grow to the wind? Or the leaves downward sink? Save this pain lest I offend you Half my journey would I have done On crutches and knees and sweat: Nor wait nor tarry your horse to stride!