What sort of strength does it take

to hold her small hands

which has birthed her own story of failure?

Cradling the cold fingers and stroking

the flat palm, you whisper

‘”You are stronger than you think”

just before serving hot coffee,

two scoops of sugar: a sweet stirring.

But will the glug of good intentions

propel her towards action,

which is needed more than hope?

C.S. Lewis once wrote,

“Courage, dear heart!” Words. Just words,

often not enough to produce.

Floundering under pressure,

not knowing what depths to draw from,

not believing in her own strength or

ability to build the sinew of change

and string together the silver gleam

of weights, too heavy now, but

with daily pumping, sweat forming, bearing down,

results will come

bursting forth like a newborn ready, heart beating,

ready, unknowing of what lies ahead.

 

 

Hour 9