THE GREEN SHALL WITHER

THE GREEN SHALL WITHER

After nine donkey months in captivity

We were released from the tomb of the womb

A womb of comfort

A womb of solace

A womb filled with milk and honey

A womb lined with roses

And decorated with velvets

Amidst cheers and jubilation

Rhythmic music and staggering dance movements

We were innocently ushered into this puzzling topographic spot

We learnt it is called Earth

We were all mirror-smooth from the crown to sole

Smoother skins prevailed everywhere

Especially at our buttocks

They were absolutely spotless and unblemished

With lips, juicey and well-painted

“What a wonderful place!” We all thought

Little did we know

We are embarking on a baton-relay race called, ‘life’

We were never pre-adviced of our destination

Neither were we offered a manual on our modus operandi

It was a sweet marathon from the scratch

All we had in mind

Was that things will remain the same till end

We occupied a world of fancy

A world without sweat or fret

A place without pains but gains

A location devoid of labour but favour

It was all joy

Boisterous days faded into soundless nights

Drowsy nights yawned sweepingly into undimmed days

Over time

 We began noticing visible alterations on our bodies

We requested for our birth certificates

And, Oh my God!

We realize we were eighteen

There were pubic hairs at sacred spots

Our skins have become tougher

Our teeth have cracked several bones

We enjoyed our youthful exuberance with glee

We embarked on crazy adventures

We induced peaceful troubles

We engaged in physical activities

We carried weights and loads

We basked in the awesome glory of the sun

Just to burn calories for our daily bread

We noticed a peculiar set of individuals in our communities

They were conspicuously unique and distinct

They were aged and feeble

Day in, day out we saw them

Rooted particularly at positions with minimal movements

Little did they do, little did they say

Their speeches were as brief as the content of a telegram

Some were so frail like cocoyam leaves

While others were half-shy blind

We paid no regular attention to them

Why?

Simple!

 We thought they were suffering for their misdeeds

What a blatant error in high places!

The days never ceased rolling by

The aged whom we saw once upon a time were all history

Their seats were conspicuously vacant

Their walking sticks leaned akimbo against the tireless walls

Their wheelchairs were patiently awaiting fresh tenants

Gradually and steadily

They had all fallen off and withered away

‘Lord have mercy!’

What are we seeing?

We have grayed without our attention

Slowly our rivers are becoming muddy pools

We could no longer walk as briskly as we were familiar with

Our strength were dwindling

Our once smooth and delicate skin coats

Have become dehydrated, wrinkled and sand paperlike

We no longer possessed our eagle-eye sight

We were like bats flying at day

Rudely were we awakened from our slumber

Just to realize were all part of a perpetual cycle

A cycle no living organism could ever escape

Not the birds of the field

Nor the beasts of the field

Our hearts bled profusely

As we reminisced our daft youthful days

Creeping tears evaded our delicate eyes

Which hid behind a windscreen of a medicated spectacle

If we had known we all belonged to this inevitable cycle

We would have saved enough energy for our final lap

If we had known

We would have spent quality time with the aged and feeble

If we had known we belonged to this cycle

We would have held the aged in high esteem

If we had known old was a rare privilege

If we had known it was the chosen few

If we had known it was a divine blessing

Had we known!

Had we been told

Had we noticed

That the green leaf with time definitely withers

We would been spared all these rude metamorphosis

But as our learned elders always say

“Had I know is a always a fools conclusion”

What a pity!