Author's note: The guts of this poem come from today's post on Six word Fridays. Melissa asked us to write something about hope, especially with Japan in mind. My natural style does not lend itself to just six words a line, but I find that writing that way gives me energy and ideas for poems that do. You can read the first version by clicking here.
Hope is in not made of things
or even food and water or
preaching or praying aloud.
It is not ours alone but
shared by us with all mankind.
Buried deep in our brains, hearts.
We find it by excavating
our souls, diving the depths
of our own secret oceans
casting aside the unyeilding
debris that holds us in its
grasp and blinds us to hope
healing, reconciliation.
Freed, hope swirls around the earth
blanketing it like a new coat of paint.
© cj Schlottman
