Glimmer of hope
Through the dark clouds,
it breaks clearly and bright,
it hits you like lightning
but without the rumbling thunderstorm.
This bright, beautiful glimmer of hope.
His eyes look at you
cold as steel,
were they not warm and pulled you under their spell just a second ago?
It feels like he just said: we love each other forever.
Is there still a tiny glimmer of hope? I do not want to give up,
do not give in.
Even if everything has conspired against me,
it will turn, this glued sheet.
I’m not hiding in my room anymore.
I cast a ray of hope myself.
If I’m happy, she asks.
Why should I not be? I answer.
That is not an answer.
I know it. She knows it.
In silence, we ask ourselves the actual questions:
What makes you happy right now? Is something making you happy?
What is not said does not exist either.
That’s the rule.
So we move on in the isolated aquarium cone – without asking the really important questions, just so we do not baffle some people.
We dive up and down like disoriented swimmers,
the surface of the water resembles the superficiality of the people,
only in the depth of the ocean in the depths of the soul I discover traces of the glimmer of hope.
Why are you sitting alone on the stairs watching the Eiffel Tower, like a pathetic, lonely worm?
This is a romantic couple place, not heard yet?
My inner voice gets outraged:
“Get a partner, you moron!”
“Let me,” I say,
“I see my own glimmer of hope over the Eiffel Tower.”
If it shimmers, grab it!
Even if hope sometimes blinds you and ends up as a dead end,
it shows you the way,
the thing your heart has great feelings for.
Look into the extinguished eyes of those who did not even dare to hope. There are sad eyes in search of a life elixir.
“Please show me that I’m important and it’s nice that I exist.”
Nobody shows it or some people show it
but your eyes are so swollen from crying,
that even the sweetest words,
the most intimate gestures
do not want to arrive at your place.
The symptoms of hopelessness.
The head, the corner of the mouth, the heart are leaden and hang down. They are almost craving a miracle.
I do not always want to be happy – how hard it has to be to hold onto it and imprison it.
I do not always want to be unhappy – how exhausting it must be to chase it and shut it out.
I want to carry hope inside of me.
A small bright candle against all of life’s plagues.
It should light my way,
I walk where the light goes, expectant, but without real shimmer and pain, only with the glow of hope in the heart.
Without hope – life is worse.
I wish we could all share it,
my little comforting glimmer of hope.