Cynicism
is the most unforgiving
proof of gravity.
I arrive at
the pinnacle
of the Hill of Hope,
and I stayed up there
for a minute,
catching my breath,
basking in
the infinite blue above
and the intricate gray below.
As I stood there
high above the doubt
I struggled to conquer,
gusty winds
threatened my balance
trying to throw me
back down
to negativity,
nihilism and inertia.
Although it may
temporarily topple me,
I know my purpose:
hopefulness
remains the duty of anyone
-everyone-
who possesses it,
to be its evangelist,
a star in the darkness,
an embrace for the weary,
the gentle voice saying
“come in.”
