I am currently planning on having a Community Forum/Discussion on Hope in early to mid September. It will be marvelous. We will be looking at the submissions I have received through this project as well has discussing the things that bring us hope and what hope means to each of us on an individual bases. However, at this point I am still in the planning stages of this event and could use some support to make this happen. If you are interested in helping make this event a reality please contact me at whispersofthewheel@live.com
Much Love,
Kashia
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Submission Twenty-Eight
"The lives of our children bring me hope." ~ Crystelle Johnson
I found this movie and thought it fit with Crystelle's submission.
Submission Twenty-Seven
Susanna
by Anne Porter
Nobody in the hospital
Could tell the age
Of the old woman who
Was called Susanna
I knew she spoke some English
And that she was an immigrant
Out of a little country
Trampled by armies
Because she had no visitors
I would stop by to see her
But she was always sleeping
All I could do
Was to get out her comb
And carefully untangle
The tangles in her hair
One day I was beside her
When she woke up
Opening small dark eyes
Of a surprising clearness
She looked at me and said
You want to know the truth?
I answered Yes
She said it's something that
My mother told me
There's not a single inch
Of our whole body
That the Lord does not love
She then went back to sleep.
~Submitted by Jessica Lohafer
by Anne Porter
Nobody in the hospital
Could tell the age
Of the old woman who
Was called Susanna
I knew she spoke some English
And that she was an immigrant
Out of a little country
Trampled by armies
Because she had no visitors
I would stop by to see her
But she was always sleeping
All I could do
Was to get out her comb
And carefully untangle
The tangles in her hair
One day I was beside her
When she woke up
Opening small dark eyes
Of a surprising clearness
She looked at me and said
You want to know the truth?
I answered Yes
She said it's something that
My mother told me
There's not a single inch
Of our whole body
That the Lord does not love
She then went back to sleep.
~Submitted by Jessica Lohafer
Submission Twenty-Six
"Great ideas, it has been said, come into the world as gently as doves. Perhaps then, if we listen attentively, we shall hear amid the uproar of empires and nations, a faint flutter of wings, a gentle stirring of life and hope. Some will say that this hope lies in a nation, others in a person. I believe rather that it is awakened, revived, nourished by millions of solitary individuals whose deeds and works every day negate frontiers and the crudest implications of history. As a result, there shines forth fleetingly the ever-threatened truth that each and every person, on the foundation of his or her own sufferings and joys, builds for all." - Albert Camus (November 7, 1913 to January 4, 1960)
Submitted by Andy McBride
Submitted by Andy McBride
Submission Twenty-Five
Model: Torrey (While not quite a child he does have that look of joy and innocence that is so appealing to many people.)
"Children's Smiles bring me hope." ~ WWU Student
Submission Twenty-Four
"Picture [Hopey Rose] is of a bright rose in a darkened world" ~Created by Wyatt Weaver
"Perseverance gives me hope." ~Wyatt Weaver
Submission Twenty-Three
The Art of Courage.
You will go off into the challenge lands
Armed only with wishbones and harp strings
Where they will be waiting
You will dance the slow yoga of cherry blossom tattoos
Fending off knee jerk war cries
With a parry of lotus petals and satellite moons
They will throw silent earthquakes at you
And your dreams will be made of blood
You will fall, and you will fall
And you will struggle to rise
Before you fall again
They will see this and call you fear
Worse than sin, the viper’s teeth
Of cancer sucking away their morals
They will flay you with whips made of time
Grind empathy into poison needles
And bury them in your skin pointing outward
So those who love you cannot touch you
They will feed you loneliness
You will not be afraid
You will keep your voice inside
The left pocket of your thoughts
Where it can’t be stolen
And you’ll sing to them
The golden underside of a teardrop
Magpies between the rafters at dusk
The song of the last kite flying without strings
This will infuriate them
They will drown you in gunfire
Strap you onto concrete slabs
Inject their hatred into you
And wail crimson razors
As you turn it into music
They will exhaust their tortures on you
And you will die every second
But it will do nothing
When they can do nothing more
They will finally send you home
And when you return
I will meet you halfway
They will be following you
Nineteen paces behind,
Eyes lowered
Begging for mercy
Created by: Spike Daeley
You will go off into the challenge lands
Armed only with wishbones and harp strings
Where they will be waiting
You will dance the slow yoga of cherry blossom tattoos
Fending off knee jerk war cries
With a parry of lotus petals and satellite moons
They will throw silent earthquakes at you
And your dreams will be made of blood
You will fall, and you will fall
And you will struggle to rise
Before you fall again
They will see this and call you fear
Worse than sin, the viper’s teeth
Of cancer sucking away their morals
They will flay you with whips made of time
Grind empathy into poison needles
And bury them in your skin pointing outward
So those who love you cannot touch you
They will feed you loneliness
You will not be afraid
You will keep your voice inside
The left pocket of your thoughts
Where it can’t be stolen
And you’ll sing to them
The golden underside of a teardrop
Magpies between the rafters at dusk
The song of the last kite flying without strings
This will infuriate them
They will drown you in gunfire
Strap you onto concrete slabs
Inject their hatred into you
And wail crimson razors
As you turn it into music
They will exhaust their tortures on you
And you will die every second
But it will do nothing
When they can do nothing more
They will finally send you home
And when you return
I will meet you halfway
They will be following you
Nineteen paces behind,
Eyes lowered
Begging for mercy
Created by: Spike Daeley
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