Friday, July 22, 2011

Hope in Hand

You speak of
with fists clenched

You speak of
dreams goals ambitions aspirations
with fists clenched

You speak of
work to be done
deadlines to be met
applications to be made
interviews to be had
all in the service of hope
with fists clenched

I fear
those fists

I fear
those fists
will squeeze
hope’s life
through its ribs—
a songbird, crushed


your palms
just so—
cup them, a little

Let hope come
to rest
there, and give
it your attention

Whatever hope requires

Trust it
to have its place
without forcing

If one day it wants to go
it was already gone
before it flew
already in the sky
of your hands

There was no letting go
Just letting be

Its cousin will come
one day

Another little bird
you had not known
would come to light
and live
on you

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