poem: lyra zabriskie

Do I hope?

After loss hope feels naive.
A luxury of the ones who do not know.

To try, again, might come from the remnants of hope slashed.
But to try again, again, must be pushed forward from something else.

Or maybe hope is a continuum.
Before, the bright and shiny and easy thing.
After, the invisible target of courage.

Let hoping for hope be enough.
Let others hope easily.

I hope with courage.

I hope.

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about the poet: lyra zabriskie

To learn more about lyra and the work she does helping women find their voices, go here.

You can also find her at @wildfemininevoice on Instagram.