The Acts of Hope

July 30

The Acts of Hope

I cover my head when I pray in hopes that G-d wants me sheltered. I attend meetings to keep alive the hope that sobriety is the end of isolation. I talk to the people in my network hoping I have something helpful to share. I sit down to the blank page with hopes that HP still chooses to collaborate with me. I pick up my paintbrush filled with hope that color is still my friend. I inhale air along with hope that each breath is worth the effort and I am worthy of this life.

Take your inventory but don’t sell your stock

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WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS DUCK

The duck looks fine sitting on the edge,

The rubber face frozen in a permanent grin

The appearance is flawless.

As long as it is not called to duty

No one will ever know.

Stay still---don’t jump.

When dropped into the water

This creature born for the tub

Lays on its side, one eye looking at the ceiling

The other straight at the bottom.

Floating is occurring but something is oh so wrong.

As indelicate as it may seem

This duck needs a big squeeze

No kid gloves and tender touches.

This duck has sucked in old bathwater

And misused ideas

Only a big push in the right direction

Will get this rancid stuff out.

Though the duck will get bend out of shape

There is no reason it can’t bounce back

That’s the wonderful thing about rubber

It is flexible and resilient

Even if it doesn’t always volunteer.