From where does hope grow?
The twinkle in old ladies’ eyes?
From blue cotton candy?
From bears in the woods?
From grasses watered by rains?
From mountaintops and the valleys beneath them?
From cracked and buckled sidewalks with elm tree roots beneath?
Where do hopes live?
Are they in the air for all to breathe?
Are they invisible spores that float and take root in faraway places?
Do they blow like tumbleweeds over the earth?
Do they need bees to transport them to new places?
Do they only emerge when forest fires burn hot enough to release them?
Do the winds bring hope and promise?
How can we harvest hope?
Does it even replenish, and is it capable of providing enough for many households to enjoy?
Are hopes transplantable onto new turf?
Are they like perennials that grow so abundantly into each other that they need separation?
How do hopes burn bright when skies are dark and threatening?
How does new growth emerge even after the ground is black?
*****
I know as a therapist I cannot transmit hope to clients. I cannot make the clouds part for the sky to open up. That is beyond my job description.
So, what can I do then? In many cases, I am holding the hope for a client when they have only darkness. Because I know that green crystalline hopes always emerge given enough time and care.
Like a special pocket watch, I am holding the hope close to my heart, clutching it under my vest, keeping it alive and ticking, until clients can see the next horizon and have hope for themselves.