April 25, 2020
I held Hope, a tiny mustard seed,
But it fell through my fingers onto the ground
And sprouted…
What good are pretty dresses still wrapped in tissue
Or pretty words left unspoken?
We started the war
And now
We don’t know
How
To make peace.
So we say nothing to each other,
Put on our dirty work clothes
And complain to ourselves
Instead
Of
Doing the thing
We know
Is right while
Waiting for the other person
In the room to show up
Wearing the pretty dress.
Maybe sometimes
The best thing to do
Is
Nothing.
Maybe, the only thing we can do is nothing– except
Let time pass and heal what wounds still remain.
Is there someone
Who has the answer?
Anyone?
All was silence
In the dark and
The mustard seed grew
And grew…
But it still wasn’t enough for the voracious appetite
Of the swarm
When they came unnoticed
And left us wondering
Now what?
How many times can we build it
Before they knock it down
Again.
And where did all my pretty words go…
I look to you for hope–
At least a smile—
However,
You are also looking
To me.
–NZain
This piece is about depression. Something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. But, it’s also about hope…and letting go.
Wow what beauty Nina! I like to think there is still hope, even for Humpty Dumpty. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now this made me and Humtpy giggle, Renee😁
LikeLike
Lovely….😊💝
LikeLiked by 1 person
🥰💓🙏🏻🍪
LikeLiked by 1 person
🍪🙏💞🥰
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is beautiful. Indeed we are looking at each other for hope, hoping the other person will give us some words of hope. I’d like to think of hope as a smile. It doesn’t require effort and is always met with another smile. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes. Hope in the smile. A simple profound gesture.😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Let the seed fall on the ground, is the only way it can grow.
Nice piece, Nina.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Letting go feels good. Grazie, J—as always.😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
hope comes in many forms, small or big it comes, pretty dresses…a deep metaphor I feel it’s essence.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now…the frivolity of a pretty dress—and yet—the importance too. Something hopeful about it.
Wishing you well, Gina🤗
LikeLiked by 1 person
i like the two sides of that view Nina. both are equally important yes. blessings back dear friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You have such a wonderful way of saying things Nina and this was beautifully written. Hope you are having a great day! Getting out in the garden more?😁😸🌞🌱🌼🌺
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Steve…even when I’m writing about depression…sometimes it gets me down—and I have to get down on the ground…and pull weeds…until I can pull myself up again. Sigh. 😌
Hope you are also having a great day too! I’ll be by for a visit—gotta know what’s happening in the old stone house!
🖐🙂😻🏃♀️🌸🐒
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I know the feeling. Pulling those weeds is a necessity, and getting up again too, not always easy.
It’s always a great day, but sometimes it’s hard to feel it, like today. I just have so much to do, but health is preventing me from doing it and I’m just getting too far behind.😕
The Stone House story is sort of up in the air right now!😂😹😳🙀🕵️♂️🕵️♀️🏡✈
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nina, your prose took me through many doorways of life, all in a matter of a moment or two.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Mr. B—thank you! What a wonderful comment! God’s peace!🙏🏻
LikeLike
So lovely! 😊❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, ma!💓😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure dear. 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person