Hope: The Thing with Feathers
Jul. 8th, 2005 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
What is it, I wonder, that has caused such sweet, intelligent, talented, caring people to feel such dejection--such cynisism--such despair?
What is it that makes "The End" something to long for--many years before it should even seem a reality to them?
Where is Hope? Isn't it supposed to be perching in the soul? Quietly chirping the refrain that all is not lost? Isn't it supposed to be crouched in the bottom of the box, tapping softly at the lid after the last monster has escaped, entreating in a soft voice, "Let me out..."? Shouldn't hope be whispering in their ears, "Let me be there? Let me help you cope? Let me give you something to live for--dream about--count on"?
Why is it--after all these years, and all these shattered dreams, and all of the betrayals and abuses, and all this pain--why IS it that I can still hear it?
Hope.
Whispering.
Hope.
Promising something better to come.
Hope.
Infusing me with the will to get up one more time.
To wipe the tears and blood from my face one more time.
To stand up and stagger forward one more time.
I'm old.
I'm fat.
I'm certainly no beauty.
I'm certainly very unlikely to be much more than I am right now--which isn't that much.
Yet.
Still.
Hope lures me forward.
Hope gives me leave to dream.
And I do dream.
And my dreams seem plausible to me--
And I feel I am entitled to my dreams and entitled to pursue my dreams.
Such as they are.
Sometimes Hope recedes, like the tide--but it
Always.
Comes.
Back.
Just like the tide.
When I see my friends, these sweet punkins, feeling such despair, my eyes fill with tears and I want to gather them up and hold them close to my heart.
I want to pluck feathers from my feathered creature of hope.
Feathers for them to cling to.
Feathers for them to plant within their own souls--
Feathers that will sprout like seeds and bring forth the Thing With Feathers.
The Thing that sings hope-hope-hope, sweeter than honey, richer than cream, warmer than the loveliest warm tea on a cold day.
In the hopefulness of hope lie the seeds of joy.
And joy is what it's all about, isn't it?
Joy?
And Love?
My dear little friends, I wish you joy.
I wish you love.
And most of all, I wish you HOPE.
Hope, that you may get up one more time when you fall.
Hope that you trust one more time after being betrayed.
Hope that you will think about The End less that you think about the journey.
The journey which is fraught--FRAUGHT--with possibilities and opportunities and people to love and be loved by and JOY.
JOY
ABUNDANT JOY.
It's there.
See it.
See it.
SEE.
((((My punkins)))
All my love,
Cho
no subject
Date: 2005-07-09 07:05 am (UTC)and genuine.
i was in target today, thinking of you, looking at all the barbie clothes with suebot. and you know what? i finally understood how someone could get into that. because they had some damn fine clothes!
i dn't know why everyone's so cynical, but if you cld maybe mail us some of that hope...? i mean. cuz we're fresh out.
Awwww
Date: 2005-07-09 07:18 am (UTC)I'll do my best to infuse you all with hope.
Zee Barbie MOJO eez working on joo!!!! Zooon U will beee forzed to buy a Barbie of your own.....zen zee biotch will demand clothes and a car and an apartment and little plastic friends U you will beee in zee clutches of barbie as I am. Mwa ha ha
Or ...
Date: 2005-07-10 03:50 am (UTC)Laurie
Sometimes I'm tempted....
Date: 2005-07-10 04:39 am (UTC)but then I look into all their little plastic faces and wonder--WHO would I get rid of??
I can't do it!!!
It would be fun to go with REALLY pristine and perfect dolls....but *I* am neither pristine nor perfect...so, my dolls would mock me.
:(
Pristine? Perfect?
Date: 2005-07-10 06:15 am (UTC)It's the clothes that are pristine - for some reason, I always took better care of the clothes than the dolls.
Laurie