in High hope of a world of good

Growing up
prayers in church
And at home
Is for good to travel through
The minds of
everyone in the world

The world
A dark ghost
Flash speedily
At the ring of our voice
In the track of eternal walk
As it muds along
The way of pilgrim heart
Sparing not river of tears

I wonder
How long our words would
catch up with its feet
stopping the decay and untidiness
The agony and bitter memories
Decades, millenniums

This I grapple daily
In high hope
As white hairs
No longer finds shelter
In young dreams



About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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