High Hopes
By John Herlihy

As a hopeless darkness settles over my fate,
With morose moods of sorrow I suffer of late.
I remember the joyous feelings of high hopes,
That seemed to ply life’s waters in leaky boats.

There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t seem fine;
Events now confront me that tempt me to pine.
Veils are drawn and doors seem about to close,
At the edge of a despair that never before arose.

I have seen the last look in her heavenly eyes;
I have heard the last sound of her voice as it dies.
I have seen her fair form from my sight depart;
I have smelt her last smell in my melting heart.

Where are the high hopes that held us together?
When I venture forth, I wish my sorrow to sever.
Then what do I see but grey clouds on a dark day;
A misty rain will no doubt have the day’s final say.

Why not be like children who forget and move on;
They scrape their knees and laugh, not feel forlorn.
How many times have I heard their piteous cries,
Only to see them smile again deep within their eyes.

After all, children also have their crosses to bear;
Paralysis, cancer, leukemia attack them with flair.
The gloom of death not yet taken over their mind;
They scream, shout, and play games of any kind.

As adults, every sad turn takes on the feel of the end;
We have lost our capacity to make-believe and pretend.
Our high hopes but balloons now suddenly deflated;
Our shelf life now expired; we are hopelessly outdated.

Until one morning, a small miracle changed it all;
A cherubic angel slid from heaven as if by waterfall,
Shook me by force, gazed into my eyes and smiled,
Reminding me of beginnings, as happy as a child.