Hope
Though it would be easier not to
subject oneself to the hypnotic
pull, tug, desirous reach of the mind.
Paving the path to disappointment,
stress, callousness, then disillusion.
Things which may not come to pass
linger as thoughts, fantasies, growing
stronger, taking root, sustenance
drained from the soul, feeding the desire
until there is no more. No more energy,
no more hope. The thought wilts away.
Time passes, there is room once more
hope, begrudgingly, returns as seed,
knowing the fate that it likely awaits.
Cycle begins anew, energy drained,
transferred, wasted with the wilting
leaves of the tree known as hope.
A cleansing rain, a ray of sunshine,
new life breathed into the dying bark,
color returns to the deep recesses,
deepest desire comes to fruition.
The most beautiful blossom erupts.
Excellent! I look forward to more. Good luck with the writing this year. Wish I had the wherewithal to do it.
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