Conversations With Hope by Jina Wallwork
Hope, I’m surprised you’re still here. I believed all this brutality would have destroyed you. I imagined a fragile impermanent body that would bend to destruction. I saw an autumn leaf accepting its fate on a cold gravel surface. I feel as though I am facing each punishment with a body that has lost all its armor. I am surrounded by those who want to crush you into nothing. I feared that I would hear your screams before your essence finally accepted death. There wasn’t a sound. You didn’t change, but the conversation did.
Sometimes I get so angry with you. I feel that you’re lying to me. You constantly speak of a beautiful future, and it can seem like a fantasy when the day is heavy, and it’s smothering my every movement. You speak of one future, and then you talk of another, and each time it is with such conviction that I believe every word. You are not false. Even though my desired future has turned to dust, I know you have integrity. It isn’t the words you speak. It isn’t the fantasy future. It’s being able to believe that something wonderful is waiting for me.
Hope, I know that I need you. You give me strength. You tell me a bedtime story that slowly becomes a lullaby. You help me to let go and find peace. I no longer care which story you choose to tell me. I just need to hear your voice. Your essence tells me that the future will always contain something beautiful. I will always listen to your stories. I love the sound of your voice. Sing to me. I will learn all the lyrics, and I will sing with you.