I LONG FOR THE DAYS

When will we go back

or turn the hands of time

to those olden days I long for

to the shunned cultures of old

Now that I live in this present foretold

I long for the happy days of childhood

to run along the cattle in the woods

to join in the songs of the birds

to wade my feet against the morning dew

to watch the golden horizon of the rising sun

reflecting the silvery stars in the clear river.

I long those age group games

to chase around butterflies in the eve of rain

to sing harvest song around full barns

to play hide and seek as cattle graze

to collect wild berries on our way home

Dancing to the beats of our heartbeats

as if in our own world

I long for those fine evenings

the songs of women from the market

the ramble of beats from the fields

aromatic smell of soil, dung and hides

to drink the good shepherd’s cuddled mild

and marvel on the praises of cattle well fed

to join in the arguments of delusions

and superstitions about darkness transitions

I long for the story telling sessions

to sit around the fire eating potatoes

to listen to folk tales and legends

to curiously ponder on prophesies and miseries

which today I live in total surrender

I heartedly long for those days

Oh if I could turn back the hands of time!

 

My first poem, wrote it on the first year of my secondary school, at 16 years. Unaltered from the first original manuscript.

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