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The Hope We Have

A poem

Published on:
February 11, 2021
Read time:
1 min.
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We have been placed behind
glass, the mask, the door
stripped of so much
it hurts to count
 
yet smoke rises
out our chimney
like our eyes
on the ceiling
sourdough
fresh from kneading
our bodies in the morning
because the day is new
 
like our Christ
who sees us weeping
who sees the locks
between ribs and stone
 
nearer our questions
nearer our fear  
God, look at all 
we lost this year.
yet our hymns hint
unclench our grip
with notes of victorious Light
 
while our prayers
echoes of all
that is still not right
somehow our voices
louder still
with promises of dawn
 
like the wind
bringing Spring
by dancing on the lawn.

Abigail Rudibaugh
Abigail Rudibaugh calls Cincinnati, Ohio home alongside her husband and two young daughters. A literary enthusiast at heart, Abigail spends her early mornings crafting poetry and the rest of the day looking for poems. She can be found writing on her instagram @pocketsoflovely.

Cover image by Dapo Oni

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