Sometimes my hope is a pebble in my shoe, imprinting into my sole.
When it shows up like this, I snap at the sky, threatening the clouds. I think it might be heavy enough to sink me, but it never does: it quickens me, slows me. Makes me think about where I put my weight and why.
Sometimes my hope is a pebble in my shoe, hidden from everyone who isn’t me. It speaks through every step I take and each I don’t. It moves with me.
It irritates and irritates, and no matter what I carry– it doesn’t crumble.