This dawnlight spills on grasslands wide and bare,
While elephants move slow through morning haze,
Mount Kenya stands in silent, stony praise—
A god of stone, unmoved by human care.
My thoughts, like dust, were drifting in the air,
No compass fixed, no voice to guide my gaze,
Yet in that hush, where antelopes do graze,
I felt a pulse that stirred me unaware.
This wind, it seems, does speak in ancient tongue,
While whispered truths my mirrors never told.
Not shaped by who I was or might become,
But by an earth’s deep rhythm, vast and old—
I find my soul not taught but simply sung,
Unwritten in the self I used to hold.








Great flow.. Thank you for sharing.