Where Is the Hope?
Where is hope?
The hope is in the contact,
in the common breath
reminding us—
however different we may feel,
we belong to each other;
however different we may look,
we share this air
that fills us both with life.
Where is the hope?
The hope is in
The strings of your guitar,
the piano strings of mine
moving together as we talk,
making a harmony even in
a dark, cold room
It’s in the cadence of
our beating hearts—
the music that emerges
when we are equal partners,
not the leader and the dragged,
in this difficult and complicated
dance of healing
Where is hope?
The hope is in
the warming sun of kinship—
each time you listen deep to me,
each time I listen deep to you,
our voices stumble,
regain their legs
becoming stronger—
truth is shared
and understood
Where is the hope?
The hope is in the warp and weft
of respect and mercy—
the shuttle of attention moving
back and forth between us,
making slow and sure
a weave of life
both bright and strong
to clothe our days
Where is the hope?
The hope is in the song
of sorrow singing
between your eyes and mine;
that you can see and feel me
even while my talk’s distressed—
the mirror of your kindness
opens up a gasp in me
that I am not alone.
Where is the hope?
the hope is in the
sweet forgiveness—
the knowing that
no matter what
I might have done,
or even worse, whatever has
been done to me,
I too can be held again
in the arms of love,
knowing I am not defined
by the worst
of my experience,
but rather by my soul
which is just
the same
as yours.
Where is the hope?
The hope is in
the way that we can see
each other—
see that we are strong and smart
and know a lot, can bear a lot;
that even though we
are sometimes
cleverly disguised
in rags and roughs
and smells and despair
that even though we talk a lot,
or way too loud, or not at all
still we see each other—
and in this being seen,
we see ourselves again
as we really are—
whole and perfect and flawed
like everyone,
just like one among
the rest of you
humanity.
Kalia Mussetter
