I used to stand at the gates of hope
calling to those who walked past
till i was hoarse
speaking with truth,
bearing witness to grace

and then either I moved
or hope did
and i find myself
here
where i can’t
for the life of me
see it anymore.

I’m sure it’s there
[i’ve not given up on it!]
it just must be hidden
behind the seemingly impermeable walls
of self-righteousness
or optimism
or wilful ignorance
where i seem to find myself
today

Perhaps if i stop looking
and stand still
for long enough
hope will find me

or maybe I will finally hear the voice
I’m sure is there
– hoarse, no doubt, and croaky –
calling truth and grace to me
from its gates.