“Rising Hope” – Painting by Karla Beatty

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The Hyperbole of Verbose Hope …

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When wilting despair blossoms into hope,
and life that seemed held together by strings you were always flailing to grope,

the dawn sun cocoons you with its rejuvenating rays,
and you feel the stirrings of being alive once more, crawling out from the desolate maze.

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When the slicing sleet of pain turns into a gentle shower of life-affirming rain,
and life that seemed held together by fingers fractured by the incessant strain,

the song of the birds caress you with their enveloping refrain,
unshackling the emotions that once held you in a vise, meant only to restrain.

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When the days and nights no longer shred you, piece by agonising piece,
and life that seemed held together by a daily renewable lease,

your soul finally soars the scarlet skies with untethered release,
and at long last, you touch the clouds, feeling the filaments of that almost forgotten peace.

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The verbosity of this scribble may seem overdone, but only because finally from the excruciating hyperbolic anguish you know you can now cope,

only because finally you grasp tightly onto long lost hope,

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embracing hope,

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infused by hope,

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pure peaceful hope …

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“Hope” – Painting by Megan Duncanson