Jaachịmmá’s “Hope Has Feathers” is soaring poem about resilience and the power of hope that carries us through life’s storms, hard choices, and uncertain crossroads toward brighter tomorrows.
HOPE HAS FEATHERS
As I travel through life, there always are times
when decisions, though hard, must be made
I stare at solutions with frank stare
the clouds gather over my eyes
rainfall soaks my parade
yet, I put up a genuine charade
flap the wings of hope and fly
As high as hope might seem
there are some situations where all I can do
is simply let go and move on,
gather my frail courage and choose a direction
that carries me in the mercy of the wind
toward a new dawn;
my wings I stay and spread as I fly effortlessly.
I bundle all my troubles in a single sigh
and take a glide forward with a knowing smile.
The process of change can be tough,
but all I think about as I fly
is the excitement that lies ahead.
Hope has feathers…
It flies me to adventures never imagined
just waiting around the next bend.
There, where the tunnel is darkest,
a shimmering silver line lingers longing for me—wishes and dreams just about to come true in ways I can’t yet comprehend.
Hope has feathers…
so on I fly
on the wings of good to better.
Perhaps, I’ll happen on places I never expected
and see things that I’ve never seen.
Perhaps, I’ll find friendships
that spring from new rainbow lines
after the storm is done bragging
as I challenge the status quo,
and learn there are so many options in life,
than fears,
than worries,
than sad tales,
than sorry stories.
Hope has feathers…
that carries my weary soul to travels fabulous,
to adventures in faraway worlds
and wonderful spots in between—
that spot of indecision where here and there meet.
Perhaps, I’ll find comfort in knowing my friends are supportive of all that I do,
and believe that whatever decisions I make are just the right choices for me.
And when I fail, they’ll be there to urge me on again.
Hope has feathers…
that sings the tune of bright sides without words
and never ever stops to flap flap flap
even when I fall, fall, fall.
Perhaps, I’ll find warmth and affection
and somebody special, who’ll be there, down the valley,
when I fall worn and hungry,
to help me stay cantered and listen as I sob; and when I’m done
will mend my wings and teach me how to fly, again.
Hope has feathers…
that carry my dreams above clouds
and perch on the Sun
just when the world opines
I’ll melt to my core.
So, I keep putting one foot in front of the other,
and taking my life week by week, when I’m ill and weak,
day by day, when I’m hale and gay.
Hope has feathers…
that beat the gale to it’s game
that, though sore the storm
and dark the night sky
will never in conditions extreme
shall settle for less or little
or ask for crumb
when, at the mountain peak,
are laid tables for me.
I know there’s a brighter tomorrow
and it’s just down the road,
so never will I look back!
I’m not going that way!
Hope has feathers…
It keeps warm my dreams
when frost bites
and high my expectations
when the wind’s chilly.
Hope has feathers…
It flies above circumstances.
