The day after tomorrow
Will be taken by what is righteous,
Not won by what the earth proffers
As the medicine of right-ness.
Tomorrow is choked up already
In the smoky smogs of today’s incongruity
So we should look beyond the day next
Like you would a bumbling bee
Due to its dubious promise
Of sweet but horrific sting.
The potentates that hold the day’s apple cart in trust
Have gone jiving in the drunkenness of apple vinegar
So tomorrow’s trust is already a leprous orphan
That no foster parents would touch with a short hand.
The heirs that should seize the bounding cart
From the palms of wanton trustees
Have placed frivolity on the pedestal of grace
While tomorrow fights for breath, knees on its neck
Choking beneath the determined weight of future slaughterers.
When town halls are invoked
Let us cultivate the undergrowths
Nurture them with the passion of true mothers,
Mindless of the sharp teeth-bites
Of toddlers relishing the sweet of breastmilk,
Till they shed the teeth of milk
For the teeth of power and vision
Untainted by the vagaries of wasted times
In the hands of open-eyed but blind forebears.
Tomorrow does not promise the sunshine we seek
Let us gaze beyond
To the day after tomorrow
When the bold undergrowth
Would have sprouted a bright new leaf.
Copyright © Sola Ojewusi