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Laikipia Plateau, my panorama of nature's beauty:
A chilly july morning, and still all is silent
as the weather patterns itself like a whirlwind
around the room; loneliness gnaws at my being
ceaselessly, ceaselessly...
Not a soul reads my mind
voices in the neighbourhood
do not ruffle a ripple in my mind
i have no mind to join in their hullabaloo.
I think of my far-off home, Laikipia Plateau
my panorama of nature's beauty, where I was born
on a skin-padded bed, nad raised my first voice
in a new world, one night, thirty three years ago.
The Loiborsoit savannah plains as ever you tickle my heart
I visualize the delight of the people, content in the rainy month, the heifers on the green pastures low and the sparrows
merrilly whizz by, twittering with joy...
I remember as a boy, following papa's cattle to the pastures
and as olmurrani the great desire to wear a lion mane on
my head, the desire that waned in the onslought of education.
I remember mama with her cows' lullabies, those soothing songs
that tamed even the wildest of cows, how they learnt to stop their kicks and instead their calves like salt they licked
how we scrummed around her for warm milk!
Mama, I come back like the prodigal son
the city i little hold in admiration
such high tower life, I find it so grey and lonesome.
Will you welcome me like before?
Will you cast a smile upon me?
Will papa slaughter me a calf for celebration
at the olpejet, in the moonlight?
Wait for me mama, at our kraal's gate today
I will come home to research the milk of your breast
that for many years I have missed
And the sweet embrace of your arms.
