Hoping – poem for Earthweal

On days like this, hope’s easy –
it’s right there, in every swelling bud,
each new shoot pushing through,
each leaf unfurling. The robin sings it
and the fieldfare carry it on fluttering wings.

Don’t let Pandora fool you.
Hope’s the last demon in the chest,
the one that sends you walking blind
into oblivion, smiling. Hope’s the Fool’s card,
hope’s the joke.

Take that hope and weaponise it, then,
mix it with love and anger, braid them together
weave them into the plaits you wear. Take a stand.
Temper hope with knowledge –
sharpen it. Hope’s just a spark,
pressed out by a wet thumb. Nurture it.
Feed it fiercely, with the fuel of joy,
and light a candle from it.

All those candles, moving apart
and then together, forming a web of light
under the great dome of the sky.

Is that enough, now? Is it?

Sherry is hosting at Earthweal tonight, and our theme is “finding hope”.

7 thoughts on “Hoping – poem for Earthweal

  1. Yes! And that is where my hope comes from, always – the natural world, that great dome of sky, and riding on those fluttering wings. I so love this poem, which lifts my heart, with its springtime buds, and the walking blind into oblivion, smiling. (The way I’ve lived my life, lol, rather like Mr Magoo, stepping off the precipice.) Right now, across Canada, love and anger, braided, are taking a stand. I hope all the voices are heard. Thanks for writing to this prompt, Sarah. I love your work so much.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow! This picks up the rhythms of our lives at spring, and reads the demon left in Pandora’s box: “Hope’s the last demon in the chest,
    the one that sends you walking blind
    into oblivion, smiling. Hope’s the Fool’s card . . . ” I intend to feed the spark of hope, to use the fool as my significator.

    Like

  3. An great weave here, Sarah — who would not hope? But is hope our friend? (Great line from Pynchon’s “Gravity’s Rainbow” — “An army of lovers can be defeated.”) What else have if not hope? Who’s in possession of this quicksilver bead? How can a poem nail it true? But you do, through its parts to the complicate ending, the whole assembly of hopers standing forth into real time. Well done.

    Like

  4. I love this, Sarah–hope’s the last demon. . .Take that hope and weaponise it, then,
    mix it with love and anger, braid them together
    weave them into the plaits you wear. Take a stand.
    Temper hope with knowledge –

    Brilliant!

    Like

  5. “Hope’s just a spark,/ pressed out by a wet thumb. ” i don’t know why but this reminds me of the thumbmarks of a potter, of creation, as well as destruction. And yes, foolishly hoping is indeed a joke, but you rob it of its punchline in your next stanza. Is hope enough?–difficult to say, but without it, we have no will for weapons at all, I think. A sharp and intelligent poem.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s