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.
