Hope, by Todd Jenkins

Todd Jenkins writes this: This was written a little less than 2 years ago. I stumbled across it yesterday, while searching for something else. Reading it again was arresting, not because I could remember the specific circumstances that bled it from my veins, but because it gave my soul a warm, comfortable sense of deja vu. To know that I have been to this place before, and to know that I will come again, is enough. To read more of Todd’s poetry please go here

Hope

The unicorns did not come
to rescue me today
as I had hoped.

Earth and sky did not rend,
ushering me into
a mother’s tender embrace.

The tears I’ve collected
did not turn into a potion
whisking my pain away.

The darkness I found
inside my eyelids did not
remove the quilt of dread
laying heavy on my heart,

so I went to sit
with someone else
whose pain I felt
from a distance;

a pain so different from mine,
I could hardly believe
it shared a common thread.

As we sat, letting all
but silence fall away,
something larger but lighter
settled in and around us;

something uncomfortable
in its familiarity,
so close was it that, at first,
intimacy tilted toward intimidation.

Time rolled on, though neither
of us could discern its flow,
until our anxiety grew tired
of keeping guard,

finally standing down,
so our being known unfolded
into a sense of knowing
that had no desire
to keep score;

a horse content to graze
in the pasture of now,
neither pining for fields
long plowed under,
nor leaning hard into the fence
holding tomorrow at bay.

It was here that rhythm settled in,
heartbeats slow but strong,
breaths deep and long.

This is the vigil we keep,
though the longer we keep it,
the more we feel it keeping us.

No longer fearing
the sun’s failure to rise,
we face the shrouded east
with a power so strong yet tender,

it can be no other
than the self of love,
in whom the roots
of hope are firmly grounded.

© 2016 Todd Jenkins

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