Hope is a tender sprig

Hope is a tender sprig
Sprouting in the soft
Soil of morning. It does
Not yet know of the glare
Of the harsh sun, how the
Moisture that sustains it will
Bubble over, boil and cook its
Root, how the very particles
That opened up to let it rise
Will conspire to choke its existence.
And by night, when the soft light of
The moon searches the earth,
It will find a withered plant,
Snuffed out: a being without a chance
Of survival from the start.
Our life is a twig of hope by twilight
Nurtured by moonlight and the elixir
Of slumber. Dawn finds us ready
To be weeded.


4 thoughts on “Hope is a tender sprig

  1. ‘Grief is an amputation; but hope is incurable haemophilia, you bleed and bleed and bleed’- David Mitchell

    Whoa! πŸ™ŠAnd that was how hope took an entire dark and disturbing turn or am I the only one who perceives things like so? πŸ€” Maybe not! πŸ™„πŸ˜
    Hope’s a lot like an expectation of sorts and Brandon Sanderson likens it to a fine pottery. The harder you hold on to it; the more they’re bound to crack. 😁 So yeah, hope really’s a tender sprig that does not parley or align with the faint of hearts; it only rolls with the courageous…’Lionhearts’; who’d remain and hope till there’s none hope left and even at that, they’d tend to hope some more. πŸ˜†

    Plus, in the words of G.K Chesterton ‘To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping, when everything seems hopeless. πŸ˜„Hard isn’t it? But hope, as delicate and fragile as it comes across…it won’t have it any other way. πŸ˜†

    Nonetheless, this is gotten bizarre written all over it and almost feels like hope’s been right doomed from the very start..afore it was even conceived and more, it knows it not! Talk ’bout not knowing what’s coming…what dangers are looming super large! The horror! πŸ˜… Makes me wonder about a saying credited to the person of Ranata Suzuki. She says…’There comes a point where you no longer care if there’s a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You’re just sick of the tunnel’. πŸ˜…

    Life’s plagued by waiting. It’s a waiting game of sorts. W. B. Yeats says it’s a ‘preparation for something that never happens’. But we hope on anyways especially when it seems like ‘a perfect graveyard of buried Hope’s as surmised by L.M. Montgomery. πŸ˜‡πŸ˜„

    Welldone Doc, this smacks of genius! πŸ˜ŽπŸ˜ƒ


    1. When you say hope took on an entire dark and disturbing turn, I would say: Not really. Looks like I am in the company of greats on this one.

      Me likey Suzuki! I’ve always loved Suzuki, and here’s one more Suzuki to like! Very apt the way she says it, and it made me smile. And nod, because I know the feeling – just get me out of the damn tunnel!

      Hope is a double edged sword. (And I hope this would become a famous quote someday, and that they remember to credit me. Then, in that future, another “Yemie” will comment on a budding poet’s blog post and say: ‘in the words of Topazo…’

      Thanks for your beautiful comment Ma’am



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