Keats wrote that hope is a healing balm, a shining star, yet some become paralysed when trying to write about it. For others, Keats's words remind them how little hope there is, or has been, in their lives and this leads to sadness, anger, depression. When I offer writing about hope to my therapeutic group, I am reminded of this once again.
is a sparkling cloud in the clear blue.
Patiently it takes on the shape
of a flower, or a bird,
or a loved one,
whatever we need to see.
But is it no match to stormy weather
pulling the shutter across.