“Passage to Mañana”

Our magic of tomorrow is brewed
In the pot of today.
In this broth, the morsels of history
Are stirred by the timid hands of time.
As the sweet aroma of great expectations
Wafts to my nose
My mouth waters,
But it tastes raw
And the morsels are hard to swallow…

Weary expectations have made
A man’s tongue clings to his mouth’s ceiling
Panting from a frenetic chase
Of earth’s gold mirage,
On his way to Mañana.

Who plagues the heart’s fire
With harsh winds of doubt?
And crowns his task with
Our obsequious rite of vain conceit;
The bane of my ancestors
Whose bones lie now grotesquely
Consummated with the red dust of the earth.

The nuggets of life’s blueprint lie deeply
Buried in the soil of wisdom…
Dig, oh child! And be predestined to conquer.
They will laugh at you,
Hiding behind their coated boulders of fear.
Yet, unearth the truth
And see them tumble down the dirt hills
Of reverse beginnings,
Bringing shame upon their womb of life genesis.

Truth is always simple
Yet unflinching in purpose
To sail the willing passenger
To the promising land of tomorrow.
And she affirms as she secretly tells me
To redeem my time, for the days are evil…

That night, the spider and his queen
Began to spin the cosmic web of their future.

We have kept a long vigil, guarding our dreams
From the tyranny of earth's love.
Now we set sail, beyond all subsidence of earthly sense
Towards the misty dawn, when together
We shall behold the promising coast of Mañana. We rejoice.

©Uche (2006)