A line pulled from Howard Nemerov’s poem, September, the First Day of School:
“I know my hope, but do not know its form.”
Rings true. Hope comes in so many forms. It occurs to me that the problem, one problem, is that I am looking for hope in “Form A” when it could just as easily show up in Form B, C, D….
Be aware. Hope comes in all shapes, sizes, forms, and packaging.
Nemerov’s Poem:
It occurs to me... 