A Modest Hope for the Future in the Midst of So Much Uncertainty
We’re swimming in a lot of disconcerting and contradictory “news” these days, whether it’s yet safe to invite friends over for dinner, visit the dentist/hairdresser/local bar, return to school in the fall. And many of the “rules” we have trusted to be the safety nets of our personal, family, community, national, global lives seem to be unraveling on a daily basis; what we once knew as solid ground has too regularly become shifting sands under our feet.
[See the updated resources on my Resilience Is Always Needed page for excellent suggestions on how to find solid ground again.]
Many of the poems I have posted here, since the full force of the pandemic sent us to sheltering in place and current calls for social reform/revolution have awakened us to re-engage in creating a more just and trustworthy social fabric, have been hard-hitting, in-your-face, shake-you-up calls to new awareness, new action on behalf of our common human enterprise.
This one is gentler. More subtle. The hope we find in a seed that could germinate and grow. Let it be nourishing, even as we nourish our hopes and yearnings for the future.
Sometimes things don’t go, after all,
from bad to worse. Some years, muscadel
faces down frost; green thrives; the crops don’t fail, sometimes a man aims high, and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war; elect an honest man, decide they care enough, that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they were born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go
amiss, sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
– Sheenagh Pugh