Today Grows Into Tomorrow
Today is a brittle passage of tumbler,
Tumbler that glares like optimism in unsteady fingers,
Fingers that grip love like a hot torch,
Torch whose blaze cracks into smoke.
Smoke is an undertone of extinct promises,
Promises wandering like ruins in the squall,
Squall that flings hearts like collapsed greeneries,
Greeneries no map for tomorrow.
Tomorrow is a wrapped and inaudible volume,
Volume whose folios leather in shaded ink,
Ink that engraves destiny like an invisible sculptor,
Sculptor influencing today.
Such is life when it changes,
Changes that bring hurdles,
Hurdles making us remain uncertain,
Uncertain of what tomorrow really means.
Poem by N. Mugisho
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