When you are at the place where hope
feels like only a word -
an old, tired, broken one -
I pray that a new wonder finds you.
It may bring you home
to the place where hope
is more deep, and more bright,
more real, and more lasting,
than the darkness and despair
which pretend eternality.
I want to be like hope:
gentle, and quiet, and humble -
but also bold, strong, and real -
weathered, and enduring,
blooming in the darkest places;
more than a word,
to all who seek it.
About the Creator
Gabriel Huizenga
Twas for love of words that I first joined this site:
Poetry, especially, and dear short stories too;
For to live one's best is to read, and to write!
So find me in words here, and I'll find you 💙
Thanks for stopping by! :)
Keep reading
More stories from Gabriel Huizenga and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Sky as Witness
The sky has always been there, long before you learned to rise, long before you understood the difference between endurance and existence. It watched you without interruption, without judgment, without asking you to be smaller or softer or easier to hold. It witnessed every version of you—every collapse, every recalibration, every quiet act of survival you performed when no one else was looking. The sky is the only witness that never demanded a performance.
By Elisa Wontorcik6 days ago in Poets
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx6 days ago in FYI
Comments (2)
I love this thought and description
This is beautiful