Hope Lives
Petals wilt in the bitter salty brine.
Bobbing on the waves of an infinite ocean, slowly drowning,
slowly dying.
I am that flower in the sea.
I am those wilted petals, shriveling in the bottomless
ocean of salty pain.
When does it end?
Wind-tattered and wave-battered am I, slowly sinking in the
icy blue depths of mindless agony.
Drink.
Drink it in, drink it up, becoming one with the water,
with the pain.
Buried in the dying leaves of the flower is the bud of hope.
Blossom, sweet beauty, open your soul to the sun
and bloom in your tear-washed glory.
Hope lives in the delicate scent of the bloom
and the graceful arc of the sea-sprayed rainbow.
Hope lives.
You may have noticed the changing tone of this poem, from desolate in the beginning to hopeful and open in the end. I started this poem during a very dark period, not long after the end of my first serious relationship. It was one of the lowest emotional states I had ever been in. When I returned to continue writing the poem several weeks later, I didn't like the negative, deathly feeling it gave. Rather than change it completely, which I felt would be untrue to my original feelings, I decided to change the focus halfway through the poem to the more positive images of the bud and misty rainbows. The end of the poem reflects my change in attitude and my willingness to be open to a new relationship in the future.
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