Hope Rising, A Poem for Texas & Louisiana

I’d like to dedicate today’s post to all those who have been affected by Hurricane & Tropical Storm Harvey in coastal Texas and Lousiana. May Hope carry you.

Where does Hope come from? From the dawn? Does it wake with the sun or is it ever present in our hearts, even at death? Then there is God, bringer of Hope Eternal – Hope supernatural. But I’m talking about plain old everyday Hope, the kind that’s a small patch of light to take a step by. The kind that barely shows through our shutters, that’s just a thread. Even it is enough.

Hope Rising

Heart wakes, Hope rising

On wings of new dawn

Patches of light pulling

Easing through drifting clouds

Floating through the sparkling sea

Lifting, lighting my eyes

Opening its doors

Awakening in my soul, a passion

Threads of life stitched together by stars

Sun sparkling on the sandy shore of dreams.


Hope is the crystal blue of a mother’s eyes, the clear sky blue of a robin’s egg, a spring day. Hope is the sweet smell of cookies baking, warm chocolate chip. Hope is ice cream cones, warm blankets, soft feather pillows. Hope is comfort, home. Hope is also new, like just finished laundry smelling of lavender & cotton. Hope is fresh, wet ink on a crisp page.

Is there Hope in the sea, or does it belong only to the sky? Birds have it in flight, but fish swim fast and glide with it. A heart can glide & fly with even a small bit of Hope. “First star on the right and straight on till morn!” I hear Peter saying. Hope is imagination and colours, an entire rainbow full of them. A sky and universe so vast that no human could have created it.

And so I’m back to God, bringer of Hope, Ultimate Caretaker. We light candles for Hope Eternal but too quickly our tiny flames burn out, extinguished by an ever-present wind: Time. We return to the earth yet Hope remains, to wake again with the sun.

Copyright September 4, 2017 Stacie Eirich 

Originally posted June 29 2016 

Maya Angelou - Hope Quote

Louisiana Lakefront: Breathing in Blue

Louisiana Lakefront: Breathing in Blue
Lake Pontchartrain

Writing Space: Lousiana Lakefront
One of my favorite writing spaces

Sitting on a wooden bench in the mid-afternoon stillness, I pull out my journal and pen to write of the brilliant blue around me, the space I’m in.

Dancing on a Bayou Breeze

Blue waters rippling off the lake

clouds hang low, stitched across the azure sky

the bridge stretching across her gentle waves.

In the distance, a steady stream of cars crossing her depths

to the city of lights, colour, jazz

dragonflies flit by, swarming in figure eight patterns, quick-winged

leaves rustle in the wind, willows sway in hot August air.

Indigo summer dancing on a bayou breeze

tiny droplets of cool rain tickling my eyelids

inhaling the smell of freshly mown grass

listening to tiny chirps of birdsong in the trees

the creaking of a swing behind me

voices and laughter, sprinkled on air

dappled like the sunlight

on my skin.

Copyright 8/7/17 Stacie Eirich 

Originally posted 8/10/16 

Poetry on the Lakefront
Stopping to read a bit of poetry on the lakefront path, this one is a fairy tale poem, titled: Pickled Think, by Russell MacClaren

Louisiana Lakefront: Breathing in Blue
My favorite walking path, beside the water
Written in response to poetry prompt @Dverse Poets Pub: Poetics, Breathing in Blue.  For this week’s Poetics, I want you to do just that: look up, breathe in some blue, and breathe out a poem. Ponder the hue itself (indigo, turquoise, cerulean, cobalt, aquamarine, sapphire, azure, slate) for a bit, then write.

I loved the given phrase “Indigo summer on a bayou breeze'” — and so, it found its way into my Louisiana Lakefront poem — with a little dance added in. Thanks for reading my breath of blue, my dance on the bayou breeze. Here’s a short video of this beautiful space that I took after I wrote today. Thanks for visiting, reading and watching.