My writing journey has been a long process of learning to trust God, myself and others and many days I still feel as if I am only on the beginning steps. Although I can write vulnerably and have, I am still hesitant to share it in a published format. I often wish to be further up the ‘published’ staircase than I am, but it can all seem so daunting. And so, a vital part of my journey has been learning about the gift of hope.
It was Alexander Pope who penned the words, “Hope springs eternal,” in his 1733 Epistle, An Essay on Man. His words still ring true today.
In fact, Pope’s words remind me of a day a number of years back, when it felt like hope literally did spring right out of the desolate prairie, just for me.
I can still see myself sitting on that solitary hill on a cold spring day, ruminating over too many hopeless situations that were going on in my life.
And then I saw it; one simple little sign of life.
The following is a poem I wrote that came from the ‘breathings of my heart,’ that day on the hillside. In fact William Wordsworth himself shared his own heart with us through his incredible gift of romantic English poetry. I find poetry to be a genre that winds more gently around those vulnerable places in my heart, wooing me to write and even share the 'breathings of my heart' with others.
Signs of Life
Purple stems protruding from prairie earth
With snow still visible on the ground
A day when my heart seeks shelter and solace
How brave and fierce the Crocus is!
Not grown in potting shed or tended in gardeners plot
It’s undaunted courage inspires me and woos me
I cup them to my face
And inhale their fragrance of hope
While Creators breath midst prairie breeze
Surrounds my searching soul
During trying circumstance
Gloria Lynn Guest