hope
Hopeful Intention
What do you hold onto
when the bottom drops out
leaving you foundationless?
Your roof carried away by a tornado.
Left only with blankness and a pen
you forgot was in your hand.
I draw myself a new house
openness of windows, tin roof to hear rain
a welcome door without requirements
with the hope that you feel safe enough to visit
uncensored, just as you are not
when you leave the premises
© Ali Grimshaw 2019
“Active Hope is a practice.
Since Active Hope doesn’t require our optimism, we can apply it even in areas where we feel hopeless. The guiding impetus is intention; we choose what we aim to bring about, act for, or express. Rather than weighing our chances and proceeding only when we feel hopeful, we focus on our intention and let it be our guide.”
– Joanna Macy, respected voice in the movements for peace, justice, and ecology.
Tomorrow – Poem by Ali Grimshaw
We can not walk
without placing our
feet upon a past life.
Leaves layered, give
way to decay
to nourish the next.
What ground can I
cultivate with shelter
for those neglected seeds
that are tomorrow’s hope?
© Alicia Grimshaw 2019
Slightly to the right – poem by Ali Grimshaw
One step to the right
not a stretch, just a nudge
shift of weight to the side.
One step away, between
worry and what if?
Landscape of exhaustion
or a horizon of possibility.
Not a marathon, nothing to train for,
just one
small
step.
Get your shoes on.
wonder is waiting.
© Ali Grimshaw 2018
Resharing one the most liked posts from this year.
Sending the light of hope your way.
Fall Will Catch You – a poem by Ali Grimshaw
Painted leaves sing in unison
Unlike music, their song
is soundless harmony.
This orchestra of color
soothes the tempo
an internal pounding
from a day of instruments
that refused to play
the same song.
Fall catches me
with muted volume
a serenade of equilibrium.
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
If Poets Ruled The World
If you brought poetry to your exhale
how would you breathe?
If you brought poetry to your cooking
how would it taste?
If you brought poetry to your singing
how would it sound?
If we brought poetry to the conversation
what would we hear?
Would we notice the moan of wind outside our arguments
that the water from the pipes is at a trickle, our absent neighbors
don’t stand in the front yard anymore, weeds thrive
overtaking the edible garden, while last year’s birdhouse
remains empty? A muffled fear
like cotton balls in our ears.
If I lived poetry
could I see the heart
underneath your skin?
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
Sharing this great quote from Moorezart
If only…
if I could hand out
flying with clouds, beyond pain,
relief your eyes seek
© Alicia Grimshaw 2018
