Skip to main content

Table for two

I cannot wait for tomorrow.
Though it seems far away
I sense it is fast approaching.
Today rescued me, just in time from its predecessor.
But would I survive tomorrow?
I am naïve, who will be my tutor?
I dread not to be, yet the cascading sweat tells everyone I am anxious.
For no reason, I am scared.
I do not want to cry but the tears urgently request their liberation.
My heart beats rapidly, I get the feeling the year would end before I begin something.
Do not ask me what I would be doing in the next 7 years when it has not arrived.
I am still trying to figure out what these 7 seconds have to offer.
I know that time has a lot of surprises under its sleeves
So, I am doing my best to be prepared for its coming.
I do not want to be left out.
I want to be written along the right lines of history.
My days have been numbered - I know today’s date.
Truth be told, I cannot wait any longer for tomorrow.
It isn’t delaying either.
Thus, I encourage myself to groom a special kind of virtue as my close friend.
Its name is Patience.
Patience tells me time will offer a better way out soon.
I believe I will live until it happens as foretold.
When it gets tough, I will survive.
Though challenges may rise up like mountains,
I shall press on to achieve the mission.
So please tomorrow, today is giving me a treat of a kind
But I know you will come prepared, so I will set up a table for two.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

International Movement of Catholic Students (IMCS) PAX ROMANA,Ghana Federation

Giving the giver that gives you peace and love from the bosom of the size-less heart all the praise  We are matching up to the ends of the earth to make sure that our task of discipleship really goes aboard; this is the title of our hymn “LIBERATION FOR PEACE”    The Holy Spirit knows boundaries; he cannot be limited in his own jurisdiction. So moving on to proclaim that which we have been taught by the teacher, we shall spearhead the action and affirm someday to come “THAT CHRIST MAY BE IN ALL” Not forgetting to promote the student Apostolate among students in higher education, in the Church’s mission and in the world; we came into existence to continue preaching and teaching the word that have life in itself to manifest wonderful and marvelous things according to the Will of the creator, Our Father... Moreover we recognize and work with all concerned men and women for joint action and reflection leading to a more just and equitable social order a...
Post a Comment
Read more

PEN

This isn’t an acronym. It is a powerful tool. It is blunt but has altered the patterns of history with unequivocal writing success. It has survived all the defining moments through the centuries Ranging from the early reed, quills, and dip pens to the contemporary ballpoint, fountain, and felt pens. History has it that, all users demand a special pen based on the pending purpose of use There is this status symbol attached to any kind of pen that has ever been manufactured. M. Klein and H. W. Wynne had received a US patent for the fountain in 1867. But as early as the 10 th century, the pen had existed.  And until this day, it has metamorphosed through many phases and designs. One of my favourites and most used pen from the 20 th to this century has been Michaels Bich’s Bic pen that was invented in the 1950s. It is simply elegant and mighty. The sword could see itself sharp but the pen is supreme. Talk of brainstorming sessions that led to generati...
Post a Comment
Read more

Tattered Dreams

They played the part yet plot the pact. Instead of repair, they lead in the shadow to rip the earth; Our gods are not to blame but them. They have betrayed our ancestors, Posterity can wait no longer. Arriving from yonder, they have come to judge our every move, To the letter in every decision backing our move. Dear Mother, my honour is stained and tattered! To where has my father departed? It seems our collective dream has shattered, The pieces pierced our feet and bruised our skin. My siblings' wail but the elders make merry. Our village is lurking around wealth, But our daily bread is locked up in the vault. We dread treading the path to revolt, And gathering momentum outgrow our ill-health. This is not the future we dreamed of. Our dreams, precious like the mineral that has taken our place now. The elders paraded the corners of my street with pseudo promises. We’d believed for a moment but our springs quickly dried up, And they silently masterminded the raid to rip our homes...
6 comments
Read more