House of Hope

If tomorrow comes, I’ll learn how to stand, see walk, talk, I’ll learn everything
I’ll teach my body how to function its functions
So if my eyes can see, closer or further
Tomorrow my eyes will learn to see opportunities and jump for them not people
So tomorrow my feet will be fit enough to stand in the light not just anywhere
So when I see my shadow I’d believe at least am somewhere doing something under the sun
My feet would learn to chase dreams and not friends and their charms, so when my morning is come, I’ll have nothing to mourn about
But will behold what was all along in my dreams
So, my heart not just to beat for anything and store up grudges
But beat for the sky till it’s no longer a limit and make failure an explicit content
So if my hands were privileged to roll models, turn pages and roll even more chunks and chunks of ugali
Tomorrow they’ll have to learn how to get hold of opportunities
And they won’t sieze to knock even the offices that fate dictates won’t have them in
So my nose won’t be for nosing around other people’s affairs but nose around creativity and be abreast with time, listen to the tickles of my itchy heart for success
So will not pass with time but will send spasms to the sky that am almost there
So my mouth won’t be much into eating, complaining and discussing people
But into discussing ideas, saying I can and preaching hope to myself
So I’d at least I’d know how it feels to be a pastor and not just an imposter of fate
So my beards will have nothing to do with flourishing ages but a replica of hours and hours of hard work and commitment
So the world will have to understand that maturity is not the size of the loins or strength of the pubis symphysis
But change of how one sees, where he stands, how he walks, what he chases
All body functions and senses
If the day after the day after tomorrow comes
When I’d not boast of hair styles but would always bliss my kangols or god fathers
I won’t have to narrate what I’ve heard and had in life
But what I’ve done to make life alive
I won’t complain on how tough life has been
But what I did however tough to make my dough, what I did to boost my odds at such an odd time
So when friends would complain of their walking sticks,
Sticks won’t be a thing new to me, for I used to stick to the rule of the game
So when I warm my bench, it’ll be nothing for I cooled my feet for years
It’s just a poem anyway
Don’t wait for body changes to understand maturity
For the greatest tragedy in life is that tomorrow will always see today’s mistakes
So will eyes, you’ll always see new stuff and new paths in life
Thank you


James Musau

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *