(for Gideon and Barasa, without whom the Nairobi lights shine a little dimmer)
And if I go
may it be silently in the dead of the night
pick up the pieces of me and put them somewhere in the corner – far from view.
If you must cry,
do it in a way that you dwell.
May the grief show you new ways to live
new ways to love.
Let the tears be a release,
an afterburner that propels you so far forward you’ll have to look back to see the future.
And when you look back
do not see that I was.
See that I am,
and always will be,