our earth is tanned
manured and watered with the sweat of our fathers,
ready for planting.
yesterday, they planted their hearts not dreams
before dawn, it withered and
and they lived to harvest hunger
with which they fed us.
Owe not the sky a dime
that the rains may come in due time.
in due season,
plant not your heart
but your dreams.
cast them not like stones but like seeds.
but if food does not abound today,
hope for tomorrow.
the darkness of the sky at night
is not it’s blindness.
wait! the day shall come
through the eyes of the sky.
fetch your firewood while the
and await the darkness that
Strength is your magic,
and beauty, your colour.
So, mould more pyramids from
to the admiration of the world.
climb the Kilimanjaro
and swim the deepest oceans unhurt,
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