there’s this thing called hope. we all get it on occasion. comes out of a kind gesture, word, or view. sinks its unrealistic teeth into one’s subconscious. and leaves its rosy residue behind. embedding. waiting until reality resumes to rekindle that optimistic flame. fire. that burns ahead. alight with potential. promising fortunate futures. for those willing to mix hope with action.
our trees could, should, and may be different. unique forms flourishing from mortared foundations. that expand together. connected. in this breathing forest. where we are individual. but absorb mutual nutrients. united. against the howling winds of judgment. our branches sway in the onslaught of know-it-alls. but they do not break. flexible. with a strong core they stand resolute. and keep extending.
first light of a new year washes ashore. paints my world in blues and golds. dawning. it warms the air, the earth, the developing days. cascades its promising power over this solitary start. where a release from before. and a welcome to the now. collide under cotton puffed skies. present. in the 2017 dawn. i vow to embrace every day to come.