Going to Bed

Every night, when my day is closing it's eyes to the world, Rwanda is opening hers. I lie in my bed converting the time difference. I imagine people eating their breakfast, opening doors, breathing deep new air, walking down roads, entering another day of work. I see offices unlocking, coffee brewing, staff greeting one another in the halls. I will sleep, my mind folded up in dark hours, detached from this whole other world and its happenings. I won’t think about the possibility of the next piece of paper being signed or processed. I won’t wonder if Jubilee is awake, if she happy, if she is sad. I won’t think about the details, the possibilities, the procedures, the way things have been, the way things are. And in the morning, when Rwanda is stretching herself in a tired yawn, I will wake, my mind firing like an engine. I will think of waking, then of my children. Is Gideon up? What of Maddox? And where, where is my Jubilee?