Field of Hope

Sadness had laid a black veil over my eyes...

Dimmed light, dulled color, blurred shapes

Until there was a certain air of "sameness" to all I saw.

My palette held only gradient shades of grey,

And I knew only one brush stroke.

My comfort was the dusk indoors,

Safe in its monotony

Comforting in its familiarity.

I had to venture outside... I think it was for dog food...

And I crossed an empty lot;

Small patches of grass were scattered among the sand and broken concrete.

Just before stepping back onto the street,

I saw, in one corner, a wildflower.

Its name is still unknown to me, but I call it "hope"

Because its feathery round blossoms reminded me what "pink" is,

And color came rushing back to my eyes.

©1997 Gail Von Schlichting

This page hosted by Geocities