Lamu Doors
What is so compelling about a Lamu door?
Is it the carving, so intricate and beautiful
That draws the eye to imagine what lies beyond?
Or the colors?
Browns, Teals, Greens and Blues?
The paint, rough and weathered.
Most likely not chosen from a Benjamin Moore paint sample chart.
But rather from the colors of the sea,
Spread out before the eye
And lapping against the Lamu shore.
The doors are more than entry points,
They faithfully conceal life within,
Families that are born and die there,
And do all the living in between.
The women shrouded in their dark, concealing cloths
Move gracefully in and out and through the narrow streets,
Looking observantly out the slit for the eyes,
Making me wonder once again,
“Who goes there?”
“You. Who are You?”
The narrative, no doubt,
serious competition for the exquisiteness of the doors,
History and legacy and a generational story line.
I want to comprehend it,
This deeply intriguing culture,
Undergirded by Swahili influence.
So very unique and special,
A world all its own.
