TERRAINS AND ECHOES OF A CHILD FOR THE FUTURE: a poetic hope for the youth
A child’s heart,
Pure and true with its dedications,
With a love without doubts, fears and hesitations.
A child’s eyes,
So clear with untainted visions.
No colors, genders, religion or any divisions.
Should a child
Be jaded with worldly preparations
With our selfish desires and rage filled motivations?
Should a child
Be jailed for deviance and delinquent sessions
When crime caresses their intimate hungry bellies and angry faces?
Let nature define its real senses of culture
Before eyes of human could deceive their own.
Let shine be the day for the sun to brighten our path ahead before noon.
Let time tell its own
Story of our struggles and huddles for centuries and memories ahead of the full moon,
To allow the soul to remain in-touch with Mother Nature.
Blend compassion with the nation’s traditions and culture.
Let both pride and humility mold character to mature.
Muzzle not their joy with life’s suffocating pressure
Without measure.
What will the future behold for them as treasures
From the past when societies rebuke their sense of the world order?
Our dreams are granted
Joy and pride with songs chanted
Behind echoes of native drums in hands for freedom of the innocent child in stranded
Days of the dark nights. As though nights would render us vulnerable
Beings at ease. Away from just being victims of our forefathers’ struggle
To humble our hearts from shackles of this earth unbuckled…
As memories of their struggles
Serve as a step forward and not a shackle.
Train them well so as not to be barren hens that cackle.
Let them dream and hope despite the walls they tackle.
Be wise and guide them through, soothingly, not whip drivers that rankle.
Let their hands spread further to reach out to their potential beyond a jungle…
The youth are the roots from seeds and
Leaves of trees of this abundant mother earth,
To sustain our nations on pillars of their off springs from birth
As they crawl and walk,
As they learn how to talk
And speak in tongues of our ancestral soul from toes
And knees they kneel,
To feel and make sense of this world
Under their foot when winter winds withered.
Dusty days surrounding their soils before rains to a seeker,
The great rainmakers of our ancient times when sacred belief had thicker
Walls beneath hearts of dozen nations in deserts, jungles and rivers…
The youth— a fragile seed that the past has planted.
The present shall nourish to fruitfulness warranted.
Future is the hope where love and wisdom are founded.
And passed on to generations of youth as enlightened
Leaders; our dreams are granted.
They gathered for survival from the wild land.
At night they gathered
Around the fireplace in winter to listen
To our great grand fathers and mothers
Narrating stories from the past, present
And lessons to learn for days ahead of their wanders.
This poem shall continue to speak to nations until words begin to age across their blunders.
Poem written by Lilian D. Kunamisa [Philipines] and Onalethuso P.B.M Ntema [Botswana].
©09/09/2018
Photo credit: Richard A. Smith PhD [Australia].
Picture courtesy of a Ciperu cultural song and dance interactive welcome/goodbye session at Lwaavo Arts & Cultural centre, Mabele village, Botswana, July 2018.