Hope Is The Kindled Light

I hope you never lose this light, that if it fades, you will find it again in these pages, however deeply hidden. And if memory does not serve, I hope you discover a new reason within these words to push forward.

I hope you learn how to breathe without feeling like you're about to hit water.

If the days are long, and your body is exhausted, when the air is too loud and so are your thoughts, I hope you can claim a small corner of our world and burrow. It is easier to watch roots crawl when you are not weathering the storm.

When you emerge from much needed wintering, I hope this kindled light will guide you through the challenges of spring. I hope you can understand that new growth is as hearty as the care it is given.

I hope you remember to eat.

And if you can't, I hope you meet someone who will order you pastries at a café and let you muse about life, love, and everything in between.

I hope when you are being shoved in ten different directions, you realize that it's okay to take the path of least resistance. I hope this light helps you achieve everything you want and didn’t know you needed.

I hope your pillow is cool and you sleep through the night, undisturbed.

When you need inspiration, I hope you listen to a new song that will stick with you forever. I hope you create friendships like that too.

If you feel heavy from burdens, some that aren't even yours, I hope you can outgrow them like a seedling ready to sprout. It is easier to chase passion if you can remember where it started.

I hope you celebrate new beginnings.

If you’re uncertain how to carry on, I’ll preserve this light, like petals pressed between the pages of a novel. And I’ll unearth it when all you need is a bit of hope.