Hope (Theme: When I am Hopeful) by Evelyn Edwards

I live in a tunnel, roughly fashioned, unpolished and dark,

And should I glance behind me for a glimpse of the light,

I see that the twists of fate have served to hide it from me.

But perhaps the light is the dream and this darkness itself the prize?

I live in a tunnel, woven from the past fabric of my life,

Formed rough by chance but tempered by prejudice and creed.

Leading this shell where? To what? Perchance my guide might reveal it.

For the constant bellow in my soul is, ‘Why me? Why now? WHY not?’

I live in a tunnel, leading from who I was to whom I will be.

The past is closed tight behind: And all that now remains is hope.

Onward I go, afraid that I am not worthy to touch the light,

Yet my vesper, my hope, she tugs, sometimes urgent, more oft’ barely felt.

I live in a tunnel. Why should I still have to sing this constant riddle? 

As fear bears down in storm-fed gusts, upon what was my certainty.

It is then I hold fast to the strength that fuelled that past: my family.

Oh God! Why did you give me this joy, but threaten to steal them away from me?

I live in a tunnel, roughly fashioned, unpolished and dark,

Groping always onward, in this quest to be reborn:

Not yet worthy to touch the dream. How much harder must I toil?

Always trusting that my capricious friend will show me the way.

I live in a tunnel, moving, until once again I am complete.

There is no half measure for me in here, only the prize, the light.