Hurt and Hope
The stars call upon my eyes
and in them I find choice.
They bid me gaze,
they bid me hearken,
and in their diary of days
I espy pages a mind to darken.
A friend taken from afar,
another lost from next door,
each one their own scar
on flesh keeping sorrow's score.
They bid me glance,
they bid me stare,
and in their distant dance
I glimpse a future fair.
A wife by my side,
a drink in our glasses,
on a porch my hands supplied
as a sprightly storm passes.
Do I stumble when the shadows come
and stay down, picking at those scars?
Or do I dream of joy yet unknown
and stand, walking toward that porch?
The stars call upon my choice
and in that I find my eyes.
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