might be a word with only four letters
but it feels so much heavier than that.
It carries a thousand weighted breaths and
teems with tears.
Can I begin to trust the universe
when I've been left before on the docks empty-handed,
standing agape at the magnitude of the waves?
Can I allow what I feel in the air around me---
salty and sweet, everything will be all right---
to be my truth?
Hope might only be a word with four letters,
but today it is my life raft;
I'll clutch to it until the sea swallows me whole.
What else is there to do?
Writer, editor, and storyteller living in the Twin Cities.