Guest Post:

Hi people...trust your week has started with great smiles. I'm sorry there would be a hold on the developing story (or rather there has been a hold on the story). This week, I'm putting up an entry that is poetry. Its written by a medical doctor by name Ekundayo Otuyelu. I'ld love you to read it and not copy it...if lifting is needed please contact me so I can contact him. Thank you and have a wonderful week in Jesus name, Amen!

Sickle Cell: A Prenatal Diagnosis.

On the darkest night, when even the sputtering flame of the meanest candle is denied me,
I will still cling to my memory of today.
I have tended the dying, prayed with men and women hopelessly clinging to whatever shreds of life are left,
and all of it has stirred my soul.

But how different it is to celebrate life at its beginning.
To hold a wailing infant in my arms, celebrate a first cry which brings joy,
to marry the dream of two into one dream, one life, one heart.

Such a thing I did today,
The woman was lovely, despite the sad journey fate had put her through so far.
The man was strong yet weak in ways the best men usually are.
He loves the woman and the gift she's given him,
and nothing of the troubles before them could temper the light shining in his eyes.

And there will be troubles.
They are poor, these ones, poorer than many of my poor visitors,
with nothing more than a united dream to take them through the years together,
they only see the dream of course.
They feel youth coursing through their veins and know nothing of the vagaries of fortune.
They will work and save and bring their dreams to fruition, one by one.

Today, I could not find it in my heart to tell them that Man's dreams are not the same as God's,
that they must accept what fate will send their way,
that there is a reward for all they shall suffer,
and in the end, it shall be enough.

I could not find it in my heart to tell them these things.
For today, my own dream is that somehow, they will find theirs.
Tomorrow will be soon enough to comfort them.

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