Hope

When there seems no other way
but through the darkness

when the light of hope flickers out

when you wonder how you will
make it through
or if you will ever be happy again

Please, take my hand.

I will lend you my hope.

I will bring you flowers
and I will empty the vase when they wilt,
and I will keep coming to visit
with flowers and a meal.

I will listen or just be beside you
in silence
because there isn’t anything to say
but only breathe together
and ask for grace
that one day
the air will not feel so cold against your skin,
the empty space so lonely,
the night so long.

Hope will not be lost forever.
The Beloved will have the final say.
Grace will meet you where you are –
alone on the bathroom floor,
in a crowded subway station,
at the kitchen sink washing dishes,
or on a walk with a friend –
and then you will feel it:

Hope budding
after the harsh winter of grief
like a tenacious cherry blossom
on an early spring morning.

You will sense possibility
and hear a whisper from Beyond
that you will
be okay.

Lisa McCrohan, MA, LCSW-C, SEP