Writing with Juliet Iwelunmor

I like to imagine that tomorrow is for those bright, those like flame, those prepared to sparkle, those who shine. Tomorrow belongs to those young, those old too, those who long for night, those who live for day. Tomorrow belongs to those with a broad arch, those with a long fetch, those ready to hatch, those prepared to march. Tomorrow belongs to those who wait, those without hate, those never late, those who know their fate. 

Death was a reminder around me this week. Not one, not two, not even the third death I learnt about. All in one week. So if I’m a bit high on life, it’s because tomorrow is a gift. I’ll like to imagine what it can be though now that I have today.