New Poetry

Hope

I reach out

Because I want to feel it.

To assure myself

It’s real.

Even though it’s an idea,

A dream,

A figment–

Of my imagination…

I want to touch it.

To be assured.

As if feeling,

Touching,

Grasping…

Ensures

Reality.

Or permanence?

Or both.

I stare at my hopeful fingers,

And I notice—

The joy it gives me

To hope.

To desire.

To reach and to grasp.

It is a gift

To look forward,

To expect something there,

To yearn,

And somehow–

To also let myself stand

Here.

To let myself stand

Where I am.

To let myself stand,

And realize:

I’m hoping

I’m expecting

I’m trying.

It is a beautiful thing

To try.

Awakening

It’s so exciting to know

Myself.

To cherish my own heart,

Like I used to

So many others.

I am no longer yearning

For others’ validation.

I

validate

Me.

Why should I let others

Decide

How I feel?

Why did I used to care

So much?

Why did I used to worry

My youth and joy away?

Hold myself

Close.

Hold myself

Up.

Hold myself

And know,

I can do this.