There are words that tell of hopes. They call out to us in those moments when no one watches, no one listens, no one seems to care and yet they still call. The sound of those words represent the need to move onward in life. Crafted with little more than a sense of love or a sense of momentary release, they still find their way into life when we donít necessarily want their emotion to cloud the issues that surround us. So practical, it would seem those words are. They are the place that we hold dear and do not reveal in their entirety. Given the enormity of a blank sheet of paper and the stroke of a pen, they wander about perhaps, but find their way into the writerís soul and as a natural process to the places where they are read.
Hope is the silent wish of a loverís devotion when it is not a reality. Hope is the conscious effort that never meets the mark as it should. Hope is the throwing up of the hands as the moment arrives that seems to show that there is no recourse, no answer, no solution for a problem that is insurmountable. Then, as the next morning dawns, there is the determination to make it all so; maybe in tiny pieces, reclaiming the shards of glass that have splintered, maybe in the sound of a voice that needs reassurance, maybe in the simple silent touch that means more than our words could possibly convey.
Everyday we see the blade that cuts, the calling out for a hand to hold to keep us away from the brink of suicide, the drink that seems to make the difference between courage and coping. We see pain, we see anger, we see desperation and when the day is done, we decide if it has been a good one, a bad one or one that we can somehow survive. Welcome to the world of hope. It is our savior.
Then there is tomorrow and another chance to prove that we can look to the future, no matter how slim the wish, how careful the bargain, how needful the reminder, we still look to the starlit sky. Tomorrow is the dawn of our hope and in finding the words within our mind and the yearning within our heart, we find hope.