On The Pulse Of Cross Over Poem by Rex-mayor Ubini

The choirs of heaven and earth,
sing sweet songs of the season;
about an august glorious birth,
that left nature’s laws to reason.

A clamour of joy fumes the air,
with red butterflies and white birds.
Chimes and happy guns
scream our hearts to heaven.

Voices of sacrifices in great multitude,
deafen the air with carols.
Hosanna, hosanna is the highest.
Triumphant horses rides in our hearts.

The jingles have been invading;
the last breath of an aged woman.
a mother of twelve bairns, waiting,
to pass on with her last born.

In our drought of true holiness,
heaven has been so merciful.
We heard of blood suckers,
Yet the stream of our vein is full.

Echoes of terrors heralded doom,
But it was only a sound to us.
We were consigned to negligence,
But heaven gave us a big hug.

We people of different races,
life once cast her worries on our faces,
but today, we smile like an angry sun,
and the gloom is scrubbed off.

And today we stand here
counting the footsteps of time,
at the great gate of ages,
which leads to a new age.
To the aged a new grave,
yet with grace we are saved.

And as time slides the gate ajar,
we admit we can’t enter,
with all that heaven frowns at
before we cross over the pillars
Let’s evict envy, malice, from our souls
Let’s release our clenched fists from hostilty
Let’s wash away the lust of evil from our eyes
So we may enter with a reborn of heart.

And if time has ushered you
into her newly minted span,
join the voices of paeans and hymns
all over the world:
Whisper or scream to your neighbour’s ear
happy New Year! ! !