In Creative Corner, poetry

The labours of my past are seedlings I gave to the present
To sow into my future; so as to reap a harvest of fulfilment

For years I have wandered the earth, searching for answers
Whether or not destiny has anything in store for my life

Mother used to say “dawn is the colour of an inferno
Called ‘the future’ who rages unchecked in heaven’s chambers”

She’d say “dusk is the colour of wistful wishes birthed
In the deepest crevices of mortal hearts”, but even though

The sky takes on the colour of a fire long dead; yet these
Tendrils of golden light still bear tales of hope & fulfilment

So, I’ll exfoliate these ignorant idealisms that hold me bound
In fetters of mediocrity and in the isolation of primitiveness

I choose to believe that my future was impregnated by my past
And has now conceived all the outcomes that elude the present

So, one day, I’ll stare through tomorrow’s eyes and glimpse
Sneak-peeks of today’s elusive possibilities, getting fulfilled.

Read – Saviour – A Poem by Noel Valentino Lema, Tanzania

Published in the November 2021 Edition of the WSA Magazine

 

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Wistful Wishes – A Poem by Jewo Oghenetega, Nigeria

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Million ways