And somehow, or out of nowhere,
it became June and the months
seemed to peel away like a picture show
or some flickering tale of 365 pictures
that tell a story of what was,
what happened,
and what will never be again.

Sometimes we see this and think,
“what a waste”
and maybe it was,
a waste, I mean.
Or maybe “waste”
isn’t the right word
or perhaps “waste” is inaccurate
or an understatement.

We are up and running to find our way
and with hopes to make up some time,
and hopefully,
we can get ahead
or find some way to make sense
of this whole crazy place.

It is morning now, and the rain has fallen.
They say the sun is coming out soon
and that the day will be salvaged
before we know it.

When the light comes in
and the day breaks after a long night,
there is this entire justification of being wild enough
to dance in the City and to enjoy
the pleasant mayhems of being young
and crazy.

This was us,
once . . .

In a way, I think the reasons we stand
or fall are all somehow predetermined
when it comes to this thing
which we call fate.

I think that is a necessary walk we take
and the dead-ends or the defining moments,
and the eye-opening events
which happen
are all moments of note
so that we learn to be better
and see the big picture.

I have to say . . .
I agree with something that I just read.
And I have read things like this
in different forms or formats, but ah,
the truth is the truth,
regardless of whether we like it, or agree;
either way, life is life, truth is truth,
the sky is always going to be the sky
and the earth will always be the earth.

Everything changes
but this remains the same.

I think of the feeling that comes
when you realize that enough is enough
and finally, you find the courage it takes
to stand up and walk away.

I think about the brilliance and the resilience
and the victory that comes
when you finally decide to push yourself away
and without a word, or without a warning,
you can stand up and walk away
without wondering if anyone notices
or if you made the right choice.

I told you this yesterday
and I’ll say this again,
here and now.
Hope is not the absence of hopelessness
and life is not always the most hopeful place.

So, before we go forward,
I think it pays to be honest
and to allow for a moment of truth.
I think I’ll leave this here
before trying to be the “better one”
or before “acting” like the
one who puts the best foot forward.

This is the book of hope
So then?
What does hope mean?
What does it mean to have hope?

Perhaps I should explain
what this means to me,
in basic terms.

Hope—
is this the film within our mind
which we play
over and over again?
Or does this mean something else?

1

And I hope . . .
I hope that the winds will blow warmly,
and the sun
will shine brightly upon your face.

I hope that the day will be kind
and that the time will move easily,
but not too quickly that we can’t take the time
to soak up the memories
and make something better of this day
or this moment, or this second
by any means
necessary . . .

I watched a movie last night,
which is not a new movie to me
nor is the movie new at all
and to be clear,
the name or the topic of this movie
is not important
at least not more important
than the message behind my posting
nor is the acting or the actors themselves
as important as the message
that I took from this final scene.