Elegy for Dr. Jairus Omuteche

Upon the river’s mournful breast,

The tide bore you, our scholar blessed,

Fifteen weary miles from home,

To waters deep where dreams would roam.

Who dared to silence wisdom’s flame,

To shroud your light in whispered blame?

The quills you wielded, sharp and true,

Have left a mark in hearts that knew.

In lecture halls where minds took flight,

You lit the way with truth’s own light,

Modern poets, drama’s stage—

You turned each line, each fleeting page.

Your words, like rivers, carved their way,

Through stone-like hearts, the minds of clay,

In your discourse, the sparks would soar,

We drank your wisdom, thirsting more.

O mentor, guide of verse and prose,

Your life, a manuscript that flows,

A tragedy we could not pen,

A tale cut short by unknown men.

But rivers speak, though silent seem,

They carry truths, a poet’s dream,

And though you rest where currents sweep,

Your words shall rise; they will not sleep.

Rest, Omuteche, in earth’s embrace,

Your lessons live, they leave a trace,

In every stanza, every rhyme,

Your voice resounds beyond all time.

©Bunguswa™