Hope Returns

Aug. 16 2011

Elena Huegel

Stretched to the breaking point,

my heart screams.

My muscles shiver and twitch

under the strain of holding on

to the bits and pieces

left of what was

but is no longer.

Light

Extinguished into

Night.

Match lit

Spark

Gone.

Candle wick

Spent.

My soul is a solitary cell.

Blind and groping

along the walls to find a warm

breath of hope whispering through

my fingers.

A breach through which

Hope over time becomes a breeze

A wind.

A gale.

Crumbling the prison

one stone at a time

displacing the pain

with light. 

Emptiness

July 9, 2011

Elena Huegel

Emptiness

Emptiness. Inside, outside

               Searching for

Reason, need, hope, way

               Each step leading

To deeper darkness

               draining self

                              to fill

               absence with light

                              chaos with spiral

                                             nothing with being

Pure, unpolluted with

               Modern contaminants

Control, consumerism

               Belly – boton-gazing

                              Illness.

Easter

Emptiness. Filled

               Inside, outside.

Gratitude

With everyone locked up at home,

what a wonderful time to connect.

All around the world,

we are living the same, basic 

unifying experience.

We chat about the virus news,

trying to keep our worries at bay,

until we remind eachother,

enough.

And switch to family

   and back to virus.

to work

    and back to virus.

to dreams and projects

    and back to virus.

The virus has infected our conversations.

So today I launched my gratitude challenge:

every time the name of the virus 

worms its way into a conversation

I interrupt and ask 

"What are you grateful for?"

or I give thanks to that person for something I appreciate.

My secret plan is for gratitude

to go viral.

EH

March26

Hammock of hands

Jan. 16, 2015

We weave a net with all our hands

To catch hope and let fear escape.

A handy net

                To cradle the world.

Bring your hands:

                Your working hands

                With cracked nails.

                Your folded hands

                Praying at the rail.

                Your grubby hands,

                With sand, shovel and pail.

                Your manicured hands

                With sculpted nails.

Together we weave a hammock of hands

To gently rock the world.

Laughter and babbling brook…

Gather in the net!

Hunger, hate and horror…

Shake, shake, shake them out!

Humming birds and wild flowers…

Gather in the net!

Word-blows and worries…

Shake, shake, shake them out!

Child-play and simple joy…

Gather in the net!

Snake fang and heart pain…

Shake, shake, shake them out!

Bear hugs and skipping rope…

Gather in the net!

Gloating, gossip and ignorance…

Shake, shake, shake them out!

Cradle the world in a

Hammock of interwoven hands.

Control we never had

Control we never had

We work, we play

               We think we have it together

Then one day

               We are forced to let go

                              of the lies and recognize

Life is fragile.

               We gather

Our memories and our hopes,

               in a basket made of grass

               that withers before the future is past.

Then bit by bit

               control slips from our hands

               and we choose to ride

               the wild winds

               or hold fast, fingers clenched

               white lipped, fear hanging

to a tree limb above the cliff.

August 5th, 2011

Elena Huegel