Raised expectations surge with delight.
it feels like it’ll happen, maybe-just might!
The visions they swirl and dance in the wind,
the possible’s endless, and wonder’s in flight.
The hormones are cranked up, the crackle is felt,
and time seems suspended and waiting’s a fight.
All this and more flows out from just words,
that simply portended that dreams can see light!
Failed expectations can hurt just like hell.
The future collapses as pain’s torment swells.
The heart feels despairing, sinking deep in the sea,
while purpose is listless and eyes cannot see.
My stomach does threaten to split me in two,
and dread seems to squash whatever feels new.
Life’s gripped in iron when future looms dark,
and hope just lies stillborn in grief’s hateful night.
Living, believing is never a waste.
It frames my good fortune when in valley’s grave.
My present is always a gift of great hope,
when breathing is granted and friendships are close.
I hold to the precious, that lives in my hand,
and reach for the promise that vision demands.
While ever uncertain, I still see a strand,
of grace that’s connected to that which is grand.
Author – Bill Tidsbury