I struggle as…
hope insists
on yoga:
stretching
a flacid left leg, balancing my torso over an immobile walker.
Hope asserts
a selfish
desire
to push
through
difficulties.
Hope blooms*
in precise patterns
on the tie
my grandfather wore
everyday
in a home for seniors.
Hope calls:
a reminder
to embrace
the future
with dignity.
* this poem has been inspired by the amazing story behind a locally made salad dressing named, Hope Blooms. Check it out: http://hopeblooms.ca
Photograph taken by Rita of a spiderweb in her backyard (using a 35mm film Olympus camera).
Beautiful poem. I am a big fan of the children garden project ‘Hope Blooms’ as well.
Hope is as fragile and yet as strong as the web you photographed. [I also am a fan of the Hope Blooms project.]