I paused deep in Nimo, the other day, to see the palm trees again, to see the red earth too, to watch how fruits cling to trees, to eat only things my soul desires. Then we went up the stairs, to a top balcony where the palm trees and I greeted ourselves again. I stood in silence and watched as the trees served me grace, wrapped me with love, reminded me to stand, even as they blew gentle kisses, of the softest breezes, my way. My eyes were busy gathering their love, gathering all the ways they rustle the air. The trees were busy stretching my being, stretching in a sweet embrace, all the ways I rustle like air. I left, centering my core, to the rhythms of time, rhythms of the palm trees too, knowing still that Nkiruka, what is ahead, is still greater than all I saw in Nimo.