“God also lives here.”
– Ndinda Kioko
What do you know about dining at the feet of a god? About planting kisses so deep into her being that you could hear the stories he grandmother told her? Do you often visit the stables where people keep their gods? Have you watched them feed them/groom them?
Did you take long walks, holding hands and discussing the politic of the day? Were you saddened by the state of the roaming souls of yesterday’s revolution? Revolution. Root word to revolve. Circular. Did you know this already? The more things seem to change, the more they seem to change.
But things are not always what they seem, and people continue to be people.
Maybe then it makes sense that to dine at the feet of a god is not your thing. How do we become gods when all we’ve ever known how to be is human? And, in knowing we are human, how can we accept those who have kissed the feet of the moon?
Does your god know about the nyumba kumi initiative? Do you? Is god your neighbor? A deity from whom you can borrow a pinch of salt for the brownies and wisdom that lasts eternity? Is there anything more eternal than the present?
Say now became something that you could add up. Thus the simple math become one now plus one now is equal to two now(s). What would it mean to look for the square root of the presents presented to us by children wandering the road looking for ways to learn? (Have you factored for a government that continues to be unwilling to invite the reapers of the harvest to the banquet?)
Do you still have a few fragments of now left over? Check your pockets, under the table. Maybe you kicked them aside last night in your hunger to lose yourself to the infinite possibility of another being of stardust. Forgetting that you might need to use now to account for all the pieces of then and soon that keep being handed out in a bid to keep the balance.
Can you see now?
There’s a farm where they grow gods, freshest this side of the Sahara but there is no harvest – and there are no reapers.
Post Note
Today I mourn the death of Farid “lightspeed” Mohammed who was stabbed to death in his home. The brutality of the murder is something that will leave us questioning for a long time. My heart goes out to his family and all who he touched in all the ways that only he could.