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To Me, Today
what is a hope
if not the most desperately fervent
wish of a man— a dream so deeply
staining the edges of reality
a hope lies dormant in my belly
sleeping like a dragon curled
on the hoard of my desire
breath like smoke wafting
past my eyes and up my spine
tinting my retinas; seeping into my brain
it fires my neutrons and my body says,
why not try again
the days spent in despair— the people
who jeer— the coffee stains and
splashed puddles and fumbled papers—
i hope to hate them a little less tomorrow
in this suffocating swirling world
my hope-stained eyes see
a new dawn a new day
a light at the end of my tunnel
even cold wind warms my face;
around me bustles with life,
sun seeping through the cracks
waking up my slumbering hope
today will be different. today will be good
today, a day i’m living for the first time
i have a hope, wide awake in my core
it tells me, it will all be okay
Copyright ©
Art Ting
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