Hope

The morning would be called dull, today.

Its nine, but the sun is behind a curtain of cloud. Grey and cold. The air barely stirs. It is quiet.

The seasons seem to be out of season, again. Just a couple of days ago, the sun was very bright, the red dust from Kampala’s roads had invaded every part of the house and we were in the bloom of summer. Now that summer seems to have taken a wink, a distance, a time out.

The world seems to be moving on in times usual flood. Super Tuesday was and is gone. Hamas sent another suicide bomber into Israel, and the underwater internet cables which were cut a few days ago are being repaired.

And yes, in Uganda, in what is supposedly a democracy, a bill which the populace and the parliament is against was introduced in parliament by the government. The security presence in Kampala was phenomenal. To quell any popular show of discontent.

Life’s a dream;

I’m yet to wake.

My mind has been weighed heavily by the events in Senegal, and in Egypt.

Why? This is what is usual. Maybe I am just low of spirit. Somehow, they seem to have become more of a load to my mind than usual.

--

Here comes my love. He does sense my low spirits. Lies down behind me, puts his head on my shoulder.

Warm, comforting, peaceful.

That is what love is. Something beautiful, a flower of peace and calm, though you are in a raging storm of pain.

Sometimes, many times, the world seems crazy, and I can make no sense of it. It is dull with the pain of many people, and senseless happenings. Somehow, hope still rises in my breast, in that of others.

Pain is, but pain will not cut off hope, nor will love not grow in a desert.

Hope is an oasis in a desert

a green garden in a sea of sand.

Hope is a fountain of honey,

drink of water on a day of thirst.

Have a good day, wherever you are. Because the day is good, and beautiful, and it is something that is uniquely its own to you. Happiness is a well of hope in your heart. Tap into it, and have a good day.

GayUganda