These Flowers

These Flowers by Jerotich Lydia

Yesterday I saw a flower
It looked so frail like kneaded flour
I was sad
Felt mad
How could such a radiant, fragrant and
lovely flower
Be turned so pale and withered!
He lay there, in that bed he never imagined
he will
Sore, stiff, and still
His eyes were moving
I flashed a smile so loving
He gave it back as I noticed his lips
Chapped, chipped, and cracked like dried
crisps.

For a moment his smile took me a mile
As I recalled him, strong, tall, shiny like a
wall of tile
Calm, cool and collected
As he towered above every challenge and
obstacle, for His Will perfected.
Daring the fiery Lodwar,
For his Lord to serve
With a young family even to the untamed
Busia
Beyond the borders he reached, to make
his God reknown.
I smiled back, so gently, so proudly, so
encouraged!

My doleful state came to a halt
As I gazed at this flower, this salt
He had added value to my life!
I remembered her, his wife
Together they cared, loved, nurtured and
prayed for me
When to that distant land I decided to be
To study, to achieve, to grow and to
inspire
In Uganda, where I knew not what would
transpire.

A father he had become
A daughter, I was cherished
He visited, he advised, he encouraged
Through thick and thin, sick and sin
He applauded my success, challenged my
failure,
That I may go for a win.
My referee he gladly accepted to be!
He did this to all young people, I thought of
Owino and other youths in Busia
I smiled, I comforted him, I reassured him,
that when he got up,
We would talk, laugh and celebrate!
He smiled, so widely, so winningly, so
determinedly.

As he opened his mouth to speak
His croaky voice filled my throat with a
lump
Of pity, of pain, of peace
It was clear he recognized me,
I felt sure he would live
The nurse said it was okay, to give him
water
I gave in small sips, he longed for it,
yearned for more for he said he felt dry
And he was right, I didn't have to pry...