Despair and Its Hope

-------Despair and Its Hope-------

A night witnessed 

the shouting grow too loud for a boy to take,

and I put a hole in the wall.

A wall 

in the home 

that for years had held me like a son

and I now too weak 

to bring to life those memories 

of playing and joy within it.

It's the lonely, 

violent side of sorrow,

depression is,

and but one form 

taken by complacency

under the rule and demands of another.

Isolating oneself in this way 

from the world

is not the principle of solitude shared by the mystics,

but it is on what vice 

and the injustices which act upon them 

depend.

Being told for too long what to do

frustrates the mind to anger

with a fist,

and holes are driven

into and across

the earth.

Years, 

and many holes later

I still hold that sorrow.

But it is its other side - of

humility and compassion,

patience

that I now let guide 

what I do with my hands -

to make a place for seeds to grow 

and faith to forever remember

that every problem 

we will ever know

carries 

on its back 

its own solution.

-------