Poem: Hue of Hope

The Hue Of Hope

I dug through the dirt

only to find it root bound.

Tangles of

old memories

entwined

with that which was working

so hard to be born.

Roots

nearly stifling new life.

But no—

among the leaves, dark with maturity

I spotted a spring green,

the hue of hope

tiny, tender spirals

still wrapped up

in their innocence—

all was not lost.

Fear washed through me

as I separated sinews,

removing the massive amount

of detritus,

and cast

the crisp, brown leaves to the ground.

Some turned to dust as they slipped through my hand,

returning to earth in their demise.

It was time to

face

what I had always known—

some things must die

if others are to be born.

How agonizingly beautiful to see

yesterday's pain

fall away

to leave space for those tender spirals

to grow—

allowing the whole to evolve

into a stronger, more verdant being.

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