Hope Rises

Morning

 

We are A Guild Called Hope.
We are God’s poetry.
We are the heartists.
Our fire is hope.
Our art is love.

 

We who give gifts
Through service
Through our work fueled by truth.
We who dance with the odd and awkward
We who create a new space for hope to bloom.
We who press forward, through resistance
Using fear as a tamed stallion of direction.
We blur our lines between
Our work and play.
Our doing and our being.
Our commitment and our passion.

 

We who see things as they ought to be.
We who fight fire with water instead of flame.
We are a tribe who prefer legacy to lies
Self-delusions administrated by the status quo
Religion, expectations, and other forms of fear.
We who prefer to create by hewing to ourselves.

 

It’s dangerous to hope, to believe, to care
To become alive and deal with your own issues.
To take the low road, to value people over the argument.
We will respect those not like minded
We will celebrate our similarities, learn from our differences.
We who seek to make a friend and not a convert.
A conversation, and not a conflict.

 

We have a faith in ourselves, humanity, and God.
We who seek not glory but good will towards Earth.
Come come if you are willing
Come come if you are curious
There are others who feel as you do.
My sister, my brother, you are not alone.

 

For the wounded, the hurting, the fearful, the outcast, the ignored
The fighters, the misunderstood, the dreamers, the doers and seekers
The lovers, the hopers, the faithful, the sick, the bored
Come come with us, let us release our light together and shine.

 

We are A Guild Called Hope.
We are God’s poetry.
We are the heartists
Embracing the creativity which resides in us all.
Our fire is hope.
Our art is love.

 

 

[Poem #21 of 30.  Image by Vince Alongi via Flickr and a Creative Commons License.]
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