This week, my students are drafting speeches about optimism. It can be tough to be optimistic in a world riddled with bullets and mired in unkind speech. In honor of my students, I crafted a brief poem:
A finely sharpened pencil scratches
the surface of the white page,
Yes. I can.
Words on the tip of the tongue
begin to tumble in a rush.
Yes. I will.
A phone rings in the dark of night
as an ear attaches to the receiver.
Yes. Of course.
Optimism does not rest in the belief
But in the willingness.