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!
