Celebrating East African Writing!
Is the sky really blue?
I’m walking down the path, looking for answers.
The proverbial grass is green, the flowers are in bloom,
The sky is blue, or is it?
So the world goes around, and people live and die-
My head hurts from all these thoughts.
My gaze focuses on the ground,
And it is so hard to look up.
My steps are leading me away from the familiar.
This place is new;
I’ve never been here before
Fear? No. Apprehension? Perhaps.
Anxiety? No. Frustration? Yes.
Why don’t I know me anymore?
Why can’t I feel like I used to?
Where does sanity begin?
All I thought, all I knew, all I felt…
It’s all gone.
just like the grass is green, the flowers so pretty
and the sky so blue, but is it?
See at first glance colours, shapes and sizes are all we see,
But on closer inspection, like in the case of the sky,
What you see as blue is not in essence the colour of the sky,
but a reflection.
Who truly knows what the sky colour is?
Who, by looking at me,
can read all these thoughts running across my mind?
Who, by simply saying hello as they pass me by,
can tell that I am hungrily searching within?
My grass is green and my flowers are in bloom-
but that is the ordinary,
I need to look up, I need to broaden my thoughtspace,
I need to look higher and further,
challenge my expectations,
tease my creativity,
heighten my sense of being and perhaps help me see more
of the world rather than have a pity party with myself
as the star attraction.
My sky is not blue-right now,
It may be yellow, red or purple,
But as long as my eyes are looking up,
My world is definitely brighter.
©Mwikali K Find more of Mwikali K here.