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By Hillary Kuteisa


Friday, March 11, 2011.





Do not write your stories in the sky.

The wind will blow them to places far and wide

And when they reach various people’s ears,

Who knows what sentiments they rouse in them?


Do not draw your secrets on the walls.

The rain will wash them down to the streams

And when they’re carried home in people’s water pots

Know you the broths they brew with them?  


Do not tell your dreams in the air.

The birds will sing of them all day long

And when they reach spiteful people’s ears

Who knows what ideas they in them inspire?


Do not throw your judgments in the winds, please.

The rains will fall to the ground with them.

Mother earth will nourish the plants with them

And the flowers will bloom so bright with them.


The visiting bees will hum them all day long—

(And some people know the language of the bees!)—

Finally when they reach your enemies’ ears

Won’t they cause only bloodshed and deaths?





Sometimes the night will be too dark

So dark that not a shape can you perceive

Though you from your sockets pop out your eyes.


But at times the moon will show her silver self

And bleach all that black with her bright radiance

Blessing the world in a beauteous splendor


Yet some gloomy mist will rise

Stealth as a thief, from God-knows-where

And blot out that orb from the face of the sky!


Hillary Kuteisa is a Chemistry student at Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda.


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