I wonder if it is born from Death – hope?
Decay that falls back into the deep
Stripped down to whirring electrons,
to the echo of life before
retaining one thing,
and is that thing – hope?
not the seed but the thought of the seed,
the breath, no the mere idea of the breath
of its existence,
and there it waits – hope
as it gathers speed and its spirit swells,
and, from less than no thing,
pulls the world toward it
as it becomes a new thing,
not at its core, but the form of the wet, sticky earth
ready, not yet but some day,
to die again
is that it, do you think?
is that what we call that thing – hope?
I noticed the first new shoots in our garden this morning. This one in particular struck me as it was in between a plant that looks very dead, or at the very least stripped of any visible life.
Seeing the first signs of spring gives me that little shot of positive energy, a hope burst, that keeps me going whilst the nights are still dark and the temperature still chilly. It reminds me too that life is always there no-matter what and that whatever is happening in our lives, hope is essential in our ability to keep going.
I had a feeling that this was something I wanted to capture in a poem. I sat down focussing on those little shoots and wrote Hope’s Spring.
I hope you enjoy it.
Love and light