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Poem
It was a short walk I intended to take
To while away time that I did not have
For I had lots on my mind and hands 
So off I went anyway and I was glad of it

But not before I had denuded me 
Of a cardigan, for it was a hot day
And I hoped my perennial cap
Would ably shield my balding top  

I crossed the road after a duel
With the tyrants behind wheels
Who for all practical purposes
Owned the roads, lanes, paths

And the outlying verges as well
And who yelled or hooted at me
Or even cursed in various tongues
But I was determined to act deaf

At least until I got to a spot safe enough
For a rest and a review of my sojourn
Using Kaguru Bus Service or Route 101
As this mode of conveyance is known

After wrestling again at the junction
With those crazy speeding monsters  
And negotiating with the ditches left
By impatient construction workers

I reached a bend that I had noted
In my Google instruction manual 
As the turning point in my search
And a wide smile invaded my face

As I had been briefed thoroughly
That I would be coming face to face
With a Moran of the Burning Spear
I slowed down to get my breath back

Actually to rehearse a short speech
By way of a humble introduction
As befits such awesome encounters
Whereat momentous issues repose

They made me sign the book as I suspected they would
And I walked past the gate feeling rather overwhelmed
For I was indeed one of their own though long-forgotten
I would have been completely forgotten had I not gone

I have come to see the Moran, I proudly announced
When I got to the semi-circular oak reception desk
Where two beautiful young women offered smiles
As though we were all well-known to each other

Was it official, this visit to the Moran or was it private
Official most certainly, I can reveal to you jovial ladies
I have penned poems in the not too distant past ladies
And you have dutifully published them for the people
  
This way, sir, if you don’t mind climbing stairs
Good exercise, said I, as I followed her ladyship
Through not so well-lit corridors and up the stairs
And then more corridors until suddenly she stopped

We had arrived, you see, at a very important door
My escort straightened a little and opened the door
And without preamble invited me to follow her in
Alas! It was the outer office of the elusive Moran

And as a pleasant voice was greeting and welcoming us
My curiosity was literally shooting out of my very eyes
You may go right in, she said, after a buzz was answered
It was my turn to straighten a little and touch my cap

Just to make doubly sure that all was as it ought to be 
In we went and to my great and humbling delight
There stood the Moran, a full five foot four maybe

The first female Moran of the Burning Spear 

That I had encountered, even in my dreams
Thank you madam, for dispelling the myth
That dwelt in my heart as in those of others
That a Moran could only be a male affair!  

And as I walked out of that great edifice 
Holding a copy of ‘Christmas in Lodwar’
By my good friend Taban, I could not but feel
That these were the whispers of a new dawn!

©Gerald Kithinji 2013
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