Black eyes
smooth white
supple body,
budded branches
torching
cobalt sky
in pink;
hidden roots
are fed by
March waters.
Medicine
folk
once called
up renewal
in this
‘Tree of Life’.
I long to make
the climb
to shatter
winter’s icy skin.
Hope is a force
field
Birch has a key.
Trees are made
of Light.
Terry Tempest Williams, acclaimed author and naturalist helped me understand that hope is not something that one can call up at will, rather it is a kind of ‘field’ that one must enter by way of natural grace.
In Terry’s own words “Hope is a force field. It is not associated with either personal want or need.”
When I read these words I experienced revelation.
For the first time in my life I understand that hope is not an attitude I can cultivate; it is a form of grace that some have better access to than others.
This poem is an attempt to create space for hope during the advent of spring, understanding (and hopefully accepting) that the door may remain closed.
And perhaps most important, that I am not to blame if I am barred entrance.
BIO: Sara is a naturalist, ethologist (a person who studies animals in their natural habitats) (former) Jungian Pattern Analyst, and a writer. She publishes her work regularly in a number of different venues and is presently living in Maine.
feminismandreligion.com 
Love this poem, Sara. Also, love Terry Tempest Williams’ books. Have always stumbled over the word “hope” as many times the word is used synonymously with the concept of positive thinking. “Creating space” for hope seems (to me) to be something do-able. I’ll think of those magnificent birch trees today. Thanks for this poem.
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Oh Esther – like you I have stumbled over “hope” – In our present culture even if we don’t link the word hope with ‘positive’ thinking (which I have come to despise) there is a kind of cultural obsession with being “happy” – happy faces, happy spring, happy happy happy… that leaves those of us who are struggling wondering what’s wrong with us. As if we could FORCE ourselves to feel hope or to be ‘happy’.
These are dark times.
As for Terry, it is precisely because Terry can stay in the truth of what is that I find myself taking refuge in her writings. She seems to be able to live in a world turned upside down … what a relief.
Every day of my life I create space for hope – and when I experience those rare moments they are almost always associated with some aspect of nature. Yesterday it was seeing the first butterfly…
For each of us it will be different
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This is a beautiful poem! Birches have such wonderful souls. To me, hope isn’t a belief or an attitude, but rather a way of being, of always persisting and working hard towards a better world no matter what the odds because there isn’t any other way to be. I recently heard Terry Tempest Williams talk about her ideas about hope and she was indeed very inspiring!
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I believe that you are right – hope is neither an attitude or a belief – Terry’s point is that you can’t conjure it up – it’s a field – impersonal – what we can do is do the best we can – and yes I love her work and have since the beginning
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By the way Richard Powers describes hope as a willingness to engage with the future – I like this.
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