Hope

Just a murmur, a whisper,

that was all it was.

Passed like an injured bird,

cupped between your hands,

palms hollowed so not to crush its wings

heart a juddering drum beneath feathers.

It sang to me

like you did.

It gave me life.


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It’s Quadrille night over at the dVerse Poets Pub. Tonight’s prompt is ‘murmur’.

 

35 Comments

  1. Oh, this is exquisite. What an absolutely beautiful description for received words of hope……this is just an amazing write. And so grateful are we when we’re handed this one lovely word/gift of hope and yes, we nurture it, hold it close, protect it. I’m so reminded of my dear dear friend who battled ovarian cancer for two years. She would not give up. And when doctors said there was nothing more, she demanded more. She always held hope in her heart. I miss her.

    1. I’m sorry for your loss Lillian, but she sounds like a wonderful person. Hope can be so fragile but it can also be so fierce. Well done to her for not giving in and demanding more.

  2. That’s wonderful, a kind murmur, or whisper. The gentleness of this is such a stark contrast to the usual uses of the subject, sounds really cool!

    1. Thank you. Those last three lines were the ones I was least confident about. I was trying to make something work within the word count and they didn’t feel quite a smooth as the rest so I’m really happy to hear you enjoyed them.

  3. I am a sucker for birds and feathers, Carol, and fell in love with the images in your Quadrille:
    ‘cupped between your hands,
    palms hollowed so not to crush its wings
    heart a juddering drum beneath feathers’.

  4. Beautiful!💖 This reminded me of Emily Dickinson.

    “Hope” is the thing with feathers. 💖

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