The Cadence of Hope

The mechanical resonance

that fills my bones

has me cracking.

Constructive frequency

chips away

at my shoulders and knees.

Rejection to critique

to the words

that no one speaks

that haunt me

that makes my courage

flee

my visage

disfiguring.

This is not pretty.

This is the ugly

me.

 

But I keep getting up,

pushing forward,

moving on,

walk the line

the rhythm and rhyme

that don’t waste time

with “I’m not fine.”

Because I am.

I am good.

I mean I’m not,

but the place I’ve stood

is not hallowed ground

and it’s nothing profound

it’s nothing short

of white noise

and useless sound.

 

But I am a symphony

walking to the swing beat

that cascades from inside me

the one that sets my feet free

tells me I can be me

to keep on persevering

and in order to get me to sing,

it starts with something moving

gets my heart beating

the things I fear – fleeting

what held me back – deceiving

has no place – retreating

moving forward is freeing.

 

I walk to the cadence of Hope.

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Stories From Honduras

Lena Kvigne // Missionary

The Wandering Poet

Footsteps, Footprints and Words

The Holly Tree Tales

Stories and philosophy, borne out of my own experiences of life on three continents.

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