I’m Here For The Hope

I am not here for the cynics,
the bitter mouths that spit acid rain
on anything that dares to bloom.
I am not here for the scorched earth,
for the folded arms,
for the I-told-you-so of those
who have stopped looking up.

I am here for the hope.

For the wild possibility
that something beautiful
still waits around the bend.
For the hand that reaches out
even when it trembles.
For the soft-hearted ones
who still believe in morning.

I am here for the sky after the storm.
For the green things that push
through cracks in the pavement.
For the apology that finally comes.
For the letter that arrives late
but right on time.

I am here for the hearts
that keep showing up—
bruised, maybe,
but still beating.
Still open.
Still trying.

I am not naïve.
I have known the darkness.
I have been the silence,
the aching,
the unanswered prayer.
But still—

I light my candle.
I make the bed.
I pour the coffee.
I choose the song
that makes something in me
remember how to dance.

Because I am here
for the maybe.
The miracle.
The shift.
The second chance.

I am here
for the hope.

And if you are too—
you are not alone.