I dreamt last night
Not of the always imminent grenade threat
Nor of the seemingly disappearing Nairobi heat
Not of the never ending party scenes
Nor of the muffled December screams
But of something much more neat
Something cool
Something provoking
I dreamt of an old man and his never-ending rant
Something very cool
In my dream there were no sounds
No words
No syllables
Just looks and nods
And occasional winks
That all ended in questions
Nor of the seemingly disappearing Nairobi heat
Not of the never ending party scenes
Nor of the muffled December screams
But of something much more neat
Something cool
Something provoking
I dreamt of an old man and his never-ending rant
Something very cool
In my dream there were no sounds
No words
No syllables
Just looks and nods
And occasional winks
That all ended in questions
Questions without answers
Answers that were in front of me
Answers I could not find
Something very cool
So his eyes asked if I pray
My eyes responded that I do
His lips demanded to know how and why
My hands made the cross sign to show
That indeed I do pray
My heart pounded to a certain beat
Then murmured:
To the father, the son and the holy spirit
His ears laughed
Something very cool
His forehead coughed
His nose twitched
Then demanded:
Whose father?
Ours.
Whose son?
His.
And the spirit?
Theirs.
Is this how you were taught to pray?
Each night and every day.
Son of my son
Do you know your God?
Yes
Does he know you?
Yes
Do you now where he is?
Up in heaven.
Wrong.
He is you.
He is me.
He is everywhere.
Something totally cool.
