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!
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