The Way of Hope

 It seems just yesterday when my heart was young,

         Full of intrigue and imagination,

When the golden grasses of youthful meadows,

         Reflected warmth upon my face.

Undulating grains in the whimsical wind,

         An ocean full of waves and possibility.

My hands sifted the grasses, walking and curious,

         With hardly a care in my mind.

Until one day I reached the edge,

         Bound by the constraints of time,

It is written “All children, except one, grow up.” [1]

         But alas, Peter Pan I am not.

And so it happened that my path diverged,

         Leaving the meadow, I entered the woods,

The horizon now hidden by trunks of the forest,

         The sun, by the canopy of leaves.

The dirt and the moss concealed my steps,

         Wandering further, I found myself alone.

Lost in the land of green, gentle giants,

         I searched for a path to pursue.

Encircled by trees, no sense of direction,

         West was lost to the setting sun.

And like black ink spilled on stark white, paper,

         The night’s ghostly essence emerged.

Hesitant, I stood among unassuming trees,

         Until dusk diminished the world,

And then silence hushed over the crickets and bats,

         When two lanterns appeared in the distance.

Each weaving their way through the maze of trees,

         Their lights flickered in and out of the void.

They circled around me, like hawks over prey,

         My stance shifted, unsure of what awaited.

 The closer they got, the more form was revealed,

         Two figures, enshrouded in mystery,

Resolute and tall, they were cloaked in majesty,

         And then one stepped forth to approach.

From the first of the lanterns emerged a hooded guide,

         Draped in robes of black and white,

A belt of Discernment pulled tight around her waist,

         Her sword, the Mighty Blade of Discipline.

In her hand, she held the Staff of Judgment.

         Refined from years of Frustration,

Formidable was her presence, assured she was,

         Then staring into my eyes, she spoke:

“I am the Way of Expectation,

         My path is known and clear.

I have no room for deviation,

         With confidence do I steer.

I’ll guide your goals and ambitions,

         We’ll journey away from here,

But you must abide by my conditions,

         I can help control your fear.”

Her voice was powerful, a terrifying tone,

         Though her invitation was compelling,

To feel so assured and to have a path,

         The stability I now lacked.

But as I stopped to ponder her proposition,

         Musing on what life would be like,

This exigent path full of expectation,

         I asked her, though filled with hesitation:

“Who created this path we are to follow?

         Where does this trail begin?

Through these woods, so dark and hollow,

         What perils await within?

So desperate I am, for a sense of direction,

         To know what step to take,

But I fear the threshold of Perfection,

         Tell me, truly, what is at stake?”

The guide before me then opened her robe,

         And pulled out an ancient scroll,

A map of life unfurled before my eyes,

         Revealing a labyrinthine trail.

With my finger, I traced the charted path

         As promised, it was “known and clear.”

I could see the destination, high on a hill,

         A world above all the rest.

“The way has been walked many times before,

         By your ancestors, family and friends,

There’s no need to deviate, no need to explore,

         Or see beyond where the valley bends.

The way is established, governed by rules,

         The Laws of How Things Are,

Follow the path, like donkeys and mules,

         No need for a compass or star.

Stick to the route and do what is right,

         And receive your just reward.

The journey is long, but you’ll survive the night,

         So, continue steadily toward.”

As I listened to her speak these veiled words of caution,

         I studied the map in her hands,

I noticed the lands and the seas that we crossed,

         Belonged to the Empire of Others.

On the compass, true North was marked by “Entitlement”

         Predicated on what we deserve,

And the magnetic force was found in Disappointment,

         For Perfection simply cannot be attained.

I thought for a moment of the allure of Expectation,

         How confident she had seemed.

Should I follow the path walked routinely by others,

         Or do I scout for what has never been?

If I give of my gifts and help other people,

         Certainly, I deserve an award,

If I buy-in to the collective of our great society,

         I would expect to be fulfilled.

“But what of my desires, my wishes, my dreams?

         That which I have long sought?

Where in the path do I cross over these streams?

         Has it all up ‘til now been for naught?

To fulfill expectations, to wear the perfect glove,

         Is it truly worth the expense?

I suppose if I stop and consider ‘What is love?’

         It is to give without recompense.

It’s tempting to follow the rules and to obey,

         It aligns with all I’ve been taught,

But I’m sorry to disappoint, I cannot heed your way,

         For my soul cannot be bought.”

As the words left my lips, releasing Expectation,

         A subtle shift occurred in the woods.

The second lantern's glow burned brighter in the dark,

         Revealing an angelic being.

With a graceful sweep, her cloak was lifted,

         A figure bathed in radiant white.

In her one hand she held an Orb of Light

         And in the other a Scepter of Faith.

Magnificent, her wings stretched beyond her robes,

         In the presence of Awe and Beauty,

And then she knelt down, meeting me where I was,

         And with her eyes she smiled and said:

“My path is uncertain, navigating the dark,

         Full of longing in your soul,

But I’ll give you direction to find the next mark,

         And courage until you are whole.

I am the sun that rises on an endless night,

         The thread which holds your fate,

I am the power that emerges in your will and might,

         To defy the guardians’ gate.

I am desire, that which your soul does seek,

         I am what you are afraid to say,

I am the strength that endures when you are weak,

         And I am in the words you pray,

When you wish on a star, longing to heal,

         I am there to help you cope,

I am a flicker, a flame, which shadow cannot steal,

         For I am the Way of Hope.”

As she spoke aloud these final words,

         Her spirit began to shine,

Halation, her aura, spread beyond its bounds,

         Illuminated the empty woods.

Blinded to reason, compelled by intuition,

         I placed my hand on the orb,

And my mind was filled with a vision, serene,

         The potentialities of this world.

The path was unclear, each step was unknown,

         But it felt like a dance with Wonder.

There was longing and yearning, borne of desire,

         Though no promise she could deliver.

Some trails descended into misty valleys,

         Those cold nights without stars,

But then some trails led to waterfalls and peaks,

         Basking eternally in sunrise.

There was no guarantee, no final destination,

         For the future is yet unwritten,

But the path I saw promised an adventure,

         And with that I felt inspiration.

The illusion of control, letting go of the rules,

         Releasing all expectations,

I stood up in the wood and acknowledged my guides,

         And allowed my heart to choose.

“To live in the world, to desire the good,

         To resist society’s corruption,

To live authentically, not as we “should”

         And to strive for the world’s redemption,

To hold space for dreams, to long for the divine,

         But to accept it may not be,

That is the life I shall strive to design,

         Sailing on an endless sea.

Each challenge that emerges and alters my course,

         I know there is a way through,

The power of your light, an unstoppable force,

         May I trust in the Spirit, in You.”

The sage who was kneeling, stood up and turned her back,

         She began her way through the woods,

Though her robe swept the ground, erasing her steps,

         I heard her voice and I knew what to do.

“Carve your own path, simply follow your bliss,

         You have what need in your heart,

With strength and longing, climb out of the abyss,

         The time is now, so depart.                     

Though you may not see my light in the shadows,

         I will always be there by your side,

For no matter the tide or how the wind blows,

         I am ever your eternal guide.”

With an intrepid heart, no longer afraid,

         I stepped forward into the unknown.

Though the path is unmapped, I will not be swayed,

         For with Hope, I am never alone.

Dane Dowell

August 22, 2024

[1] Peter Pan, J.M. Barrie