The sun breaks through thunderheads
Spotlighting the huge jacaranda tree.
Her blooming halo shimmers—
Polished amethyst. Fallen petals glitter—
a purple ring against the dark wet earth.
I, alone, glimpse the Tree of Life and
Gape, unblinking, as angels sing,
“Worthy is the Lamb!”
Chocolatey delusions of grandeur subsume me.
Glorious jacaranda shaped confection!
I envision flourless dark chocolate cake
Layered with smooth rich ganache.
I’ll pour glaçage. Sculpt fondant.
Tree trunk and limbs unfurl—waiting.
Spin delicate blossoms—glistening.
Violet and indigo—sugar glass gems.
Aroma of premium cacao, envelop me!
Espresso-laced, palate perfection! Mmmm!
Mere milliseconds. Clouds collapse. Glory gone.
I startle, stuporous, wedged deep in a matatu minibus.
Designed for fourteen, we carry eighteen, plus
Kids and cargo—the sofa on top paid extra.
I’ve gone noseblind to the stench of humanity,
But remain overwhelmed by acrid diesel fumes,
and the reek of wet goat.
Forced onto my lap, a sobbing toddler pees himself—
His warm urine soaks my leg and boots. Eventually,
They disembark—the toddler, his mum, her goat.
Two men squeeze in, shoving me further
Against the window. Furtive hands explore
My pockets, unfazed at finding toddler-soaked lint.
Filth encircles mean roadside shanties.
Ragged babies suckle hollow-eyed mothers.
World without end.
Pray. Focus. Breathe.
In—Three more hours…
Out—Please, help me endure…
In—Three more hours…
Out—Grant me sugary hallucinations...
1 November 2006:
From Nyahururu to Nairobi:
-Antimalarials also cause wicked daydreams.
-Remember fiery jacaranda.
-Buy chocolate.
