Seems an awful precarious vessel
By which would flow
You, or any part of You.
Even my wonder at Your goodness is
Too unreliable, too simple.
Part of and maybe the magic is
You’re to be hoped in:
No matter our fragility
Lack of dependability
Whimpering, stinking inadequacy.
You and all Your
Tendrils of light keep
Teasing to hope.
3 thoughts on “Hope”
“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the song without the words
And never stops at all.”
So glad to see you’re being tickled by the feathers, Amy……
Miss Dickinson’s sounds so light (though we know hope’s as heavy as it gets!)… Mine feels hard fought for. It’s all the same, I guess, though she most always says things better than most! Thanks for this and for being “here.”
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I quite like reading a post that can make people think.
Also, thanks for allowing for me to comment! http://geekfreq.com/item.php?id=16714&mode=1