Just
another day; unending day,
I dare
to welcome everyone, hey,
In the
name of Agnus Dei.
Here
are the men willing day by day to salvage,
Not
only in Apostolate,
But also
in all their ways.
This
place is where calls are nourished,
Whether
for priests or for brothers,
And in this
my case not to first years only but to all years,
Towards
there in ten years
You
know what!
Life is
never straight in here, am sorry,
There
are multiple bended-back stories.
The
herculean task depends on our decisions and policies,
Which
drums the loudest when we touch that Glory,
Believe
me because this is not irony!
The
thing is,
Our stories
make us touch the skies,
Even if
they might be ambiguous or obvious
Of any
descriptions of us.
All of
us try to improve those previous scenes,
So that
we are not slaves of various histories,
Surely,
even Peter Drury knows,
But
what is history, what is reality? Answer me!
Didasio
and Venancio have information,
To the
point of attaching prescription,
That
spurs our continuation and motivation
Because,
personally, am from a neighbour nation,
Yet I
add my intonation in this vocation,
Believing
in the authenticity of my intention.
You and
me, inside strengths and gifts, needs different,
Outside
dreams of priests, perfect
That
makes me to yearn to be a prefect
Of
myself, health and wealth to fit in this context
But
don’t misquote me because I am worth it
Ready
to face death of this earth!
Of course,
I am a flawed being in reality,
Sometimes
unwilling to use the best way conventionally,
Of
kneeling to the floor unfortunately,
To pray
to God occasionally,
To show
me the way that has tranquillity
Pursued
the journey of an indelible identity
Because
when he called I answered in curiosity,
To place
that has fraternity.
From pitch
to church, to preach there is unity,
Which
teaches how to strip anxiety,
That makes
each understand leach in this vicinity,
Which
cements four pillars in the society.
Personally,
I trust the staff,
Because
they puff nice staff,
Which are
sound to chart and chant,
To
people who are in need of light.
I chant
as songs of hope and spiritual,
Not
like the ones of Radio and Weasel,
I try
to use faith and reason,
Even in
spiritual direction,
If you
think its lies and fiction,
Just
ask Venancio and Didasio
You
see, Mallya and Kapya for Pastoral always asking us
That
even in holidays kindles a flame everlasting,
As
though over passing,
Within
the confines of humanity,
Not for
personal greatness but to leave enough sanity and spirituality,
That is
why am for freedom, maturity and responsibility
Because
it rejuvenates diversity in community and in apostolate! I mean Creativity!
Funny,
I do not promise the flock glitz
And
glamour despite they seem nice,
But I
promise hope under Christ,
Hope
close to that of mice,
Alternatively,
of cancer patients who walk miles determined to find oncologist.
Believe
me because I don’t preach lies, well, call me unrealistic,
But my
instincts tells me yes I can, that’s why the canning are sick and in sadistic,
With an
intention of agonizing my optimization.
You
know what! I have ever done it,
Because
that plantation I dreamt it,
I dig it,
I weed
it but I have never bragged about it.
EEEH! Even if am dreaming, thank God am prophetic!
I am
chasing the dream, I, Moses, the ordinary man,
I do not
desire flamboyant life style, am not a celebrity,
But I
have an identity,
Even if
my name rarely warn,
That’s
why I spout out, ‘Yes I Can’,
I can,
just as Hounsfield the inventor of CT scan,
Because
I too, le grand prophet,
Started
believing I can walk to Egypt
To this
time through Suez canal
When I learnt
to work hard even at nine.
The
truth is am a simple poet who can wait up to ninety-nine,
Who
don’t just create art at all,
But I
fashion master piece that comes out master class- out of the box,
I mean
outer class not mediocrity
And
don’t call me proud because it’s either God or Cesar.
Just as
a spade is not a big spoon, so mud is not glass,
That is
what we pledge this year in our class.
Furthermore,
I measure my friends
Because
friends of pressure
Are not
a pleasure
But
pressure,
Whether
those of abuse of alcohol or ‘pesa’.
I tell
you, they can wash away all your dreams like Geisha soap
In
addition, leave you crying at leisure
Because
that’s their pleasure
If not
their nature.
I
promise they cannot stick and fly together
In the
same sorrow feather;
I don’t
want to fall like ancient Empire of Rome,
But to
discover my potential,
To be
rational inspire galaxies of generation,
Flow
like H2O,
In
future to be a master of my own
So that
I might not fumble
With people’s
soul
And one
way at all to achieve this, is to welcome friends who are loyal.
You can
laugh all you want
But I
promise I will never hide my account
TO THE
WORLD.
Jesus
found me when I was on my way out,
Chasing
the dream to fly in this world,
Admiring
fashion and glamour of this world,
Desiring
to follow the crowd,
Make
money and copy every fashion on TV and radio,
Aiming
to build a big home that another person going to owe,
Thank God,
before I could go
And the
casket pushed low,
He
shone the light that will forever help me navigate.
Postulate
to me how to get to,
Listened
to his voice all to,
Answered
his voice I too,
Started
pursuing silence rather than noise chaque jour,
yes! Chaque
jour, each and every day and now I look my face in a mirror grateful.
I said
I have a world to tell,
I have
people to preach to,
Way
back my sister thought I was possessed,
May
back my friends thought I was obsessed,
Even
after, wayward formators thought I was depressed,
Thank
God, now that, he gives me courage not to be oppressed
But to
be real when I express I am pressed,
Now all
as endorse it as a progress!
This is
no longer my account,
But
Jesus whom I count on.
I’m not
ashamed to tell the world because time might run out.
This is
not an argument am taking
But a
reality I am placing,
Because
I’ll never forget all I do is through Him, the one,
Who
never faking His love,
Ever
letting me accomplish one by one,
Forever
pouring his blessing flow to me below
Convinced
that your existence is real because I know.
His
providence makes me speechless.
When am
toothless he makes me shameless,
Caring
less
About
my doubters just like Clayton Jennings said,
and I
quote, “it’s not my mission to be loved, it’s not my aim to be known”
So do I
say I would care less if I don’t find text on my phone,
what am
grateful of is, Jesus has put me as his own.
By ASHANGO MOSES.