What do you call it?


What do you call it

The obscure thing that wakes you up

That gets you to roll out of bed

To walk into the unforgiving coldness of winter

And the unforeseen coldness of the world


What do you call the spark

That reels in your mind’s eye

Forever questioning

Forever running

Like a flowing stream


Is it ambition

Is it faith

Is it expectation

or steam


Is it fate

Is it worth

It is obligation

or a dream


It’s hope that stirs

That finds clouds in the sky

Forever creating

Forever enduring

Like frost-covered mountains


In the end

This is about as obscure as the sun

Shining ever so brightly in the morning sky

It brings an undeniable warmth to your heart

A feeling you can not ignore




I've found that hope is one of the most powerful things in the world. I purposely formatted the stanzas to shorten an gain intensity. Then one the main point is made, the poem would grow again and decrease intesity. The format would have to be my favorite element of the poem.

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