Still Sings the Nightbird

Moon-sun

289 M Moon-sun n the horizon, the moon rises gently. First she sends out her soft rays. When her powerful beams strike the ground, rings of hope rise into the air. In the enveloping rays of light that enfold the earth, the five continents are dimly lit. They are in love arrayed. The moon is now fully visible. She grabs her apparel of splendor. Hers is a silver and white skirt pressed around her waist as with a magnet. Silently stars take their places. The moon beams soft colors around and beyond her. She fills the earth. The planet loves her. She pauses and watches the earthly. Hope that is inseparable from pain, vice and virtue, love and peace is hidden like a nutritious fish of the sea that is held by two hard shells that open in the middle. The moonbeams protect it. They cover it and shine so that the water and salt might preserve it. There was sun in the banana hands hidden in green leaves to ripen in its rays. The yellowing glow of ripeness, open to bird’s pecking when the rain does not fall in time. Birds that eat leaf and flesh happily chat their sense into no sense; but never are able to eat the sun. He knew that this bird had been the secret spirit of the rhythm in Kabi’s life. The song of the night - bird came before sunset and moonrise. The night - bird still flies over many, many, many miles over the earth, to give strength of hope and meaning wherever it can. It sang. It sang many songs. It is heard in many nights and days. It touches the source of greatness; sometimes kissing its dearest. When it sang in Delhi and in Calcutta, Kwƭ hehoƭƭ! kwƭ heho ngNJkomakNJ? Someone recognized its song and run with the spirit. When it sang in Mexico, someone loved its song, and run with its spirit all over the earth. A cold stream was turned warm. Oye! esta tan frio, tan frio esta Madre, donde duermo?” “Kwƭ hehoƭƭ! kwƭ heho ngNJkomakNJ?” Kabi’s spirit heard the response all over the earth. That Kabi was somewhere and everywhere Jugus knew very well. How would all her energy have disappeared? She was there. Look. She could see the whole Rift Valley. She walked with the moon. She I 290 took the bones of the ribs, skulls and legs of the woman and put them together. Children run there to see. They were all stars dressed in light despite their rough sides. She could see Nakupenda and Malaika there. Kabi’s eyes were wide and beautifully opened. Her eyelashes were so long that they curled back and her eyes were like large seas of hope, love and compassion. Work. She gathered the bones of the old men. She put them there and saw that they had no ribs missing. They were all stars darkened and fallen but lit up by the light of the moon. The burnt children began to speak. She looked at them. The moon was weeping. The children said. “We are the eternal fire, and you shall never again close our eyes. We love our people!” Googo’s wrinkled smile hit the earth in rays. The dry hot earth cracked with her breath in many places when her lips parted sweetly. She seemed to say, “Let the ljkabi, the Maasai and all peoples, sing forever.” Some tourists sat outside a camp in the basin of the Rift Valley. They were planning to go bird watching. They were feeling cold. It was chilly. The sun had gone down. “Mamma,” said a young voice. “Mamma. Sing me real songs. Tell me real stories. Let us see real people… Something is blinding me, Mamma! I want to tour my real self,” She said in German. “I will tell you more tomorrow” “No. Now Mother. Please!” “Listen… it is a night - bird that sings only in human language, the tongue and ear of all human beings,” Her mother said. In the distance some men were singing in rejoinder. They were chanting Maasai tunes. Eeeee yaaaahm, uhhhh eeeyaaah, they intoned. There were voices of women rising again. The men sang women. The moon and the sun echoed their songs. Somewhere far away drum skins were cracking in the sun. They sang without any visible hands beating them. The people: children, men and women danced to the rhythm. And again far away the song of...