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Repercussions-by-uchechukwu

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This is a poem I wrote about two years ago after I listened to my father's story of manhood. This is a charge to myself to be better in everything I do, do persevere, to water the seeds I plant in my mind. To be a jack of all the trades I chose and master of them as well. I hope this piece brings you strength and peace.

Actions and reactions are equal and opposite,
This I was told in my first motion class.

And then I ask:
If actions are barely as judged as reactions,
Does that mean repercussions are just actions unjudged?
I ask again, what are the repercussions of these unjudged actions?
But this was not a question for Mr. Mohmoh's physics class.

Now, who said a butterfly should not flutter above rooftops?
But whoever said that, is it impossible?
Who made it a taboo?
True, its journey may leave it weary,
But its wings grow stronger each time it flies.
Its path, etched in quiet persistence,
A legacy written in the air.

Imagine this: a name that holds both weight and worth,
A legacy born of will, not chance.
The repercussion of a reaction that births reactions,
Their actions become this chain reaction that breaks chains—
An echo that ripples from one generation to the next,
A reaction that shapes what’s to come.
For a butterfly’s strength isn’t just in its beauty,
But in daring to fly, come storm or sun.

Even if it falls short of the rooftops,
It creates wings that reach new heights.
Talent alone cannot carry it there—
Only the courage to act, to try.
So its children rise, each journey building on the last,
Wings strengthened by the will to climb.

So tarry not forever; awake from thy slumber!
You are not a butterfly—you are boundless.
If the butterfly had stayed in its cocoon forever,
It would never know the feel of open skies,
Or the art of balancing on rain-soaked wings.
It would not have learned to ride the winds to the place
Where it discovers the secrets to birthing birds.

You dare to sleep, and fold hands, and wait to be fed?
You dare sit and do nothing, and slumber in your bed?
And yet you wait, hands folded, still?
What comfort do you find in stillness?
Doing nothing is itself an action,
With consequences that linger in silence.

Remember what the Bible says:
"A little sleep, a little slumber..."
Hmm
And you will sit, clear-eyed, like a man who's been robbed a’yonder.

My piece I bring you;
Peace I hope it leaves you.

Udo

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