hope street
©2024 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Jon Tyson on Unsplash
come on, let’s kick it
feel the beat
swing those arms, bruh
groove them feet
come on, let’s kick it
feel the beat
swing those arms, bruh
groove them feet
Even the peaceful soul must know distress.
Knowledge was never gleaned from nothingness.
Duress is key, yet joy brings lessons too.
Bitter and sweet (combined) divine what’s true.
Hope was not meant
to lock in the result
that we hope for.
Hope is simply a force
to ease burdens and
light our way through.
Life is a sea –
an ever-changing flow,
awash in sights and sounds
we come to know,
our spirits free.
Brokenness heals –
cracks wide our throbbing doors –
lets go, lets God,
lets out the flood that pours
from swollen skies.
My self-portrait, if made today,
would be on paper, not in clay.
An abstract, puzzling my eyes
in shapes I strain to recognize.
The week before Christmas, I wait at the post office,
mailing one last, precious thing.
The line isn’t quite out the door, but it’s close,
and our holiday mood’s taken wing.
It’s up to me to live my days
in sunlit hues or shady haze.
Though circumstance vies for control,
I chart the weather in my soul.