VICISSITUDE

The voice in the storm was prophetic.
Just as it promised
To unveil shine after the rain,
So it kept its word.
And shine had brought rain,
Also fulfilling its promise.

Before night is day,
And after night comes day.
Each is each’s forerunner;
The hand of one
Is the promise of the other’s.

Once, parents were children
Next, children are parents
Procreation redraws the cycle:
Plants from seeds, seeds from plants.

And the little child wondered
Why people die.
Why you’ll one day die.
Why one day he won’t be remembered.

But so was the agreement. Now forgotten.
To embrace life is to accept death.
And after death is life.

Still he argued it wasn’t his choice.
Sadly, memory is precise in eternity,
When all variation will cease.





An excerpt from my poetry collection TENDRILS
David Numshi Musa © 2009