hope

GIVE ME A MOMENT.

[to catch my breath. to think. to let go. to cry it out. to look at that bright, bright sky. to say goodbye. to finally get it right. to ready myself. to write it down. to take one last look.]

oh, and yet i am still searching for something else after all of it. 

[to figure it out.]

my eyes drift across the sky, and i taste words of a memory. an old story i read, rolling around. it was about an old man who had seen things that broke his heart. but there was a woman and her daughter waving to him every time he passed by with the train, and that gave him comfort. after all those years, when they finally meet, he finds out that she was not a gentle spirit. she was harsh, with some fear in those bones. the story ended with the old man leaving, all hope diminished. 

i know that fragile hope. 

the kind that breaks under truth. 

SO I REALLY  MISS YOU RIGHT NOW. 

[on one knee, praying to the Lord. i was never more proud of you. / i fit just right in your arms. / he laughed like it was the last time. / early morning, and i watch your sleeping face. the window is open, the air is cold. / wild morning hair. craziest i've ever seen. / every midnight laugh. / guitar hands, grandma cookies, sleeping bags.]

can i tell you something? 

every single hope, every single dream, every single thing that is not of God will pass away. 

yeah. i know. 

but they are fragile things, and we are so small. we do not know what we are doing with our hands. i thought i knew how to love before, but i know now that i was looking with blind eyes. couldn't get it right for a reason. those things hurt you more when you keep them. 

[oh. i do not miss the old things as much as i thought.]

so still, i will hold on. i will stay kind. i will stay gentle. if you're still listening, here's this:

HOPE 

xx much love.