Hope2 mins 326 2 mins 326
All the seeds you sowed today
Would not let you down tomorrow,
Though maybe you can't see them grow
As tall as you had thought ago,
But when days turn into weeks
And months into years,
You can compare and see them thrive
As opposed to what you'd feel tomorrow.
The story goes back when kings ruled all,
The soil had humus and houses weren't tall,
When the old farmer worked very hard
And dug the soil deep to the core,
With the hope of finding some relief
And once he gave up and kept his spade
But realising his folly he resumed his task
Until that day when he found the golden flask.
Pot, as we say, was baked in the scorching sun,
How ironical that it later kept water cold
But in the beginning, all it was was just clay
Wet, slimy and we won't dare play.
Yet the potter had his hands dirty
To break it, make it and again break it
Till the moment it took its shape, one that stays
And now is ready to serve its days.
These tales are many of the few exemplars
Too look how one can eventually succeed,
Despite losing several battles, the war, we can win.
The recipe is quite easy to comprehend,
Just determination, perseverance and hope.
The path maybe tedious but sure you would cope
And manage to walk up to that cliff you feared
To see how mesmerising it is to not give up.