Dec 14

Tomorrow, the Day of Impossibles

Tomorrow, I hope the sky turns green. 
I hope the sea turns violet, 
the fish to start flying and 
the birds to start talking. 

Tomorrow, I hope the trees erupt into symphony, 
the clouds hanging above to lower
and throw the world into a foggy dreamscape,
the stars to twinkle between my fingers.

Tomorrow, I hope for the impossible. 

I hope for the impossible, 
not because I believe it will come true, 
but I solely hope for these impossibles
because I know some possibles won’t come true. 

I know that tomorrow, every table will not be filled with food and drink.
I know that tomorrow, every person will not find a warm bed at night. 
I know that tomorrow, every mind will not have all happy thoughts. 

I know that tomorrow will most likely be exactly the same as today. 

So yes, I hope the trees start singing tomorrow, 
but only because I do not want to get my hopes up
that the people of the world will finally come together,
finally put aside their issues and help each other. 

There is always a second part
—an epilogue, a sequel, an afternote—
and yet, is this one worth it? 

I shall write the second part tomorrow, 
because tomorrow, I hope I won’t need to.