|Photo by Ben White.|
Blessing of Hopeby Jan RichardsonSo my we knowthe hopethat is not justfor somedaybut for this day--here, now,in this momentthat opens to us:hope not madeof wishesbut of substancehope made of sinewand muscleand bone,hope that has breathand a beating heart,hope that will notkeep quietand be politehope that knowshow to hollerwhen it is called for,hope that knowshow to singwhen there seemslittle causehope that raises usfrom the dead--not somedaybut this day,every day,again andagain andagain.
The first time I read this, I was caught by the final stanza: "not someday / but this day" pierced right through to my heart.
This time, I was grabbed by "hope that will not / keep quiet / and be polite", which I incidentally mistyped as "be police" the first time. A telling mistake of where I think politeness may be failing us.
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