a poem by Olomolehin John, Nigeria

My heart, do not doubt
the promise of heat the sky made
in the cold face of ceaseless downpour

For in the womb of night
are numerous offspring of light
racing to hatch in the dawn

Today stands signless
maliciously silent like a traitor
amidst this season of your pursuit

Hope loses sight to puncturing crisis,
time stretches ahead endlessly
with words unspoken

Keep fanning the ember, my heart
though your willingness is wounded
this is still the path to your glory

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