Ask: are my dreams crumbling before my face
or must I not believe my eyes?
Ask: am I limping in longing and lust
whilst my counterparts rise?
Ask: is mine a face full of sweat and tears?
And ask: is mine a cry that no noble ear hears?
Well, let the wise answer,
let the seasoned give a smart answer:
though my future be bleak
I'll remain like a dove meek,
though the situation be bad
I'd rather not be sad,
though the weather be cool
I'll plunge not in a pessimist's pool,
But, instead, when the sun rises in the east
I'll wake up and rise to feast,
when the storm comes from the South
I'll get into my room and close my mouth,
when the violent winds come from the north
I'll take up my rod and attire and make my oath,
when the sun sets in the west
I'm sure I'll have done all my best,
For mine's a heart of an optimist -
For mine's not a mind of a pessimist!
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Comments about this poem (Optimist by Comfort Ndlovu )
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