Hope is heavy.
Sometimes I cannot hold it.
My arms ache with the weight of it.
I have to let it go,
Let it drop to the ground,
Embrace the free-fall.
In the letting go,
In the slow motion of the fall,
I notice someone who loves me,
Catching it, holding it, protecting it.
Keeping it safe,
Until I am strong enough to hold it for myself.
What else can love be?
We hold hope for each other,
When we cannot hold it for ourselves.
We raise it high above our heads,
We become the searchlight, the beacon, the lighthouse.
Until the darkness lifts.