Hope has holes
in its pockets.
It leaves little
so that we,
can follow it.
it doesn’t know
it knows only
that all roads
begin with one
foot in front
of the other.
~ Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, “Hope” from Hush
Stripped and stark —
if winter were the ending of all things,
there would be no hope.
There would be no sun shining on the hills
far beyond me to reflect the path before me:
what is, what will be and what has been.
When I am down to the bare and broken essentials —
bleak and muddy and the too-early dark —
I must put one foot in front of the other,
continuing to push forward.
I know this resting pause is not the end.
Never has been.
Never will be.
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