Vivid Dwells #3
What is this hope always present in the day? Why did it still find a resting place with him, his dreams? In the deepest places of his mind, where the dark roots of doubt came over his shoulders, pulling down, and down, and down, there was still this hope. A word sitting comfortably on a giant screen, in black, bold as the sun, HOPE. It embarrassed him at times if he allowed the negative characters in his soul to own the heart’s floor. He could proceed if that word stayed there on the screen. It would flash when the tidal waves of fear could be seen miles off shore. It would pop up on walls next to paintings in the local gallery. It would be on his son’s pillow at night while he knelt down to say goodnight with a kiss. This word was a friend? This word was his soul expressing the belief to keep moving in his dreams, to push forward in his HOPE. He knew the importance of sharing this word in other ways around his life. To not give up or give in to the temptations of doubt in center of the circle, valleys away from the edges where he was building his home. To be of service could mean to share this Hope with others, to share his story of struggle, to become a creative healer in the new spectrums of his work. Hope, not like the political slogans of the past, but further along in the soul, in the hearts playground, in the wide audience of nature.