Looking

(not with eyes)

 

I’m sure we’ll be all right

No compelling reason

Faith, I guess

Measures of hope and hope for grace

In faith, these are promises,

 

Which on a tired, hungry morning

Sore and cynical

Do not win over, easily

For anyone

But there’s optimism in that, too

Tolerance unearned

Shame assuaged

 

Should take more strength than I have

You might be tired, too

But the next hour will arrive

Without us

We can’t make everything happen,

Thank goodness

Though we can do this much

 

C L Couch

 

 

By Poupig – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=20853200