I wrote this poem a few weeks ago and have been holding it back ever since. I had an idea for a second part but in truth, in my own anxiety, ego and wounds, I realised I was desperately trying to silverline it to make it [insert me] more palatable and less, well, dark. But I think so many are feeling a sense of disillusionment, numbness, helplessness and despair right now which is showing up in a number of ways. And sometimes, the beginning of hope and change is being honest enough to name what is.

“Hope isn’t withdrawal or blind ignorance; it’s not burying our heads in the sand and singing about Gospel ships coming to take us away, nor is it pretending that it’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine. . Many things in our world are not fine. Hope dares to admit that.”

Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts