Hold High Heavy Hope

I climbed to the highest hill expecting

To find myself pulled down by rubble,

But found the stars were shining brighter,

So I settled under the light, expecting silence,

But the sound of voices raised in harmony were staying

So I reached up with my brush and painted

A myriad of glimmering patterns, the paint,

Dripping onto my black fur to make more stars

That I carry pridefully, lovingly.

 

And when the heat of the fire dies off

Let my fur be the warmth that keeps,

Let my heart be the drums that beat,

Because it learned to beat to the high

King’s beat, and to follow his feats,

And I felt so incredibly bold, but sometimes

The loneliness would feel so cold,

That I would tell my story desolately

 

I’ve known the fire all my life, lighting up

In anger and pain and guilt at being alive,

But now the fire has a purpose, and it’s staying,

And it’s pertinent to know that it’s now

Of love and faith and trust, passionately,

I ask that you know that you’ve always been enough

 

But know that my fur is thick, so even when

The candles fail to stay lit

I will be there to guide you back to it

Humbly, solemnly, wishing for it to be so