Hope
for one is so much stronger
than initially presumed.
Pain is overcome, again and again,
as one rises above present conflict to focus on future recompense.
Calamity and crisis do not stop the heart,
for the spirit can endure all,but for the lack of hope…
For it’s the lack of hope
that eventually creeps through the pain, causing the ache to grow numb,
leaving an oppressive black residue in its place,
a constant reminder of what is missing: expectation, optimism, anticipation, belief…
Lack of hope annihilates, skulking through
open-ended nerves and prowling throughout the shredded remains of what was once the core.
For without hope, there can be no heart.
Without heart, there can be no future, and without a future, there can only be
the bleakness that follows a three-day storm,
complete with thunder, lightning, and the full desolation of bitter, bone-chilling rain.
~~~
An earlier version of this poem was first published in 3 Cup Morning-Canada / January 2007
A modified version was published in print in The Penwood Review / Spring 2007
First published online in Eskimo Pie Magazine / December 2014
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