In Hope of Tomorrow

Dear Tomorrow,

Does this letter find you well? Does it find you in a better state of mind? Here it rains all the time and nothing is ever as it seems. Fogs roll in, making it hard to find you. I wonder, do you look for me in that fog? I can't help but hope you are hopeful of a better day too.

I spoke of you today and it made my heart sink. Just a little. It's hard to imagine a world in which you don't exist but it's a place my mind wanders more and more these days. There's fire in the barnyard and roosters on the roof. No one calls home anymore except for the debt collectors with their bellies of stone.

Tomorrow, I wish you could shake your hands loose, just a little. I wish that you could find the time to write me, to give me any sign that there is still something there to hold on to. They say that love grown in the dark is doomed to die and that is much where the heart rests these days.

I need a sign of your hope. Where is your faith in me? Where is the hand to hold? I hold my own and pray that you are there in the morning. You're not. Is it time for me to let go? Pray, send word. I await the call of a brighter horizon. One that's shaped in the wash of a better world.

Yours in love, Praesens

© E.B. Johnson 2023